


What do I stand for?

by castielpottergirl



Series: WDISF? verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Bathroom Sex, Dean in Denial, Doctor!Cas, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting all the characters out at once, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internal Conflict, M/M, Male Slash, Nightmares, Physical Abuse, Possible Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Smut, Soldier!Dean, Sorry Not Sorry, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:40:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielpottergirl/pseuds/castielpottergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say your life flashes before your eyes in the moments leading to your death. Whether it is the faces of family members; a beloved pet; a room or location of significant importance. Perhaps it's feelings, or the memories of forgotten times? For Dean Winchester, it was a face. Just one particular face; with soft, full, pink lips; bluer than blue eyes that can drown you in the waves of the ocean the longer you stare into them; the stray soft, black strands of messy hair across a forehead. For Dean Winchester, it was the warmth in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the heat of the explosion, and the break of the heart that wasn't caused by the heavy impact of flying shrapnel. For Dean Winchester, it was the man he was hopelessly in love with.</p><p> And then there was nothing but darkness.</p><p>At the moment, the amount of chapters is as listed... With each new chapter though, depending on how long they are, I may end up separating them into parts. If and/or when that happens, I will change the total chapter number to the appropriate number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in this category. Sorry if there are any mistakes, this is not beta'd. So if anyone wants to be my beta send me a message or say so in the comments. I'm sorry if this first chapter is total crap, it gets better, promise!
> 
> I do not own any of these characters! They are property of The CW. If I through in my own characters then those I claim!
> 
> I hope you enjoy and I'll love to know what you think!!!
> 
> Just because I kind of figure what everyone is thinking at the end of the summary, about where the story will end, I'm asking you to trust me when I say the summary might not be as absolute as you think. If that made any sense at all.
> 
> Also, chapter titles based off the lyrics from the song 'Some Nights' by Fun. So just think about these lyrics in regards to the summary and story... "Sorry to leave, mom, I had to go. Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?"

They say your life flashes before your eyes in the moments leading to your death. Whether it is the faces of family members; a beloved pet; a room or location of significant importance. Perhaps it's feelings, or the memories of forgotten times? For Dean Winchester, it was a face. Just one particular face; with soft, full, pink lips; bluer than blue eyes that can drown you in the waves of the ocean the longer you stare into them; the stray soft, black strands of messy hair across a forehead. For Dean Winchester, it was the warmth in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with the heat of the explosion, and the break of the heart that wasn't caused by the heavy impact of flying shrapnel. For Dean Winchester, it was the man he was hopelessly in love with. 

And then there was nothing but darkness.

**~Two years earlier~**

Dean Winchester was the typical head-of-the-school jock. He got the girls; the sweet ride; the letter man jacket; the looks. He had everything.

He was a legacy.

If you were to ask around the halls of the school, 'Who is Dean Winchester?' you would get the same answer, maybe in different wording, by each person you asked. 'Dean Winchester is such a party animal!' 'Did you hear Dean had sex with so-and-so?' 'I heard Dean Winchester is the descendants of Gods!'

Since the moment Dean Winchester walked into Lawrence High School on the first day of freshmen year, he was popular and wanted. The summer before school started, Dean successfully became the first freshman to make it to the varsity football team since before his own father's time. Sure he was the third string linebacker, but he was still on varsity. He played his fair share of games that year, all the while forming a reputation of getting what he wanted, when he wanted. Usually this consisted of long legs and skinny waists.

Sophomore year brought Dean higher on the school hierarchy. He was promoted to the teams' second string linebacker. He worked harder on his game, improving on his strength and endurance. Pushing himself farther, faster, stronger. He went to parties. Made out or hooked up with the random drunk girl; never learning her name; never remembering what color her hair or eyes were. He never looked them in the face, preferring to do quickies from behind.

For Dean, high school was the prime of his life. And when he succeeded in becoming first string linebacker during his Junior year, well life just continually got better.

That was his life in school. His life where he was the play-boy footballer who got the girls and the just passing grades to stay on the team. His life at home was a different story.

When Dean Winchester was younger, no more than four years old, his brother's nursery was engulfed in flames; some freak electrical fire according to the police firemen. His mom died that night while he carried his six month old brother to safety. Some nights he still wakes up with the stench of burning skin in his nose, fresh in his memory as if it was happening at that precise moment. As if his mother was burning to her death in front of him, startling him from his sleep.

After that night, John, his father, changed. He went out drinking, hoping that at the bottom of a bottle held the answers to why the love of his life was torn away from him at such a young age. Every night he went out drinking, and every night Dean had to care for Sammy. He practically raised the kid.

Only few people knew the real Dean Winchester.

Ellen Harvelle and Bobby Singer were practically Sam and Dean's surrogate parents. They were there for them when their own father was passed out on the floor in a pool of his own vomit. They took the Winchester boys in when there was no more food in the house, or when John forgot to pay the water bill.

The only other person who knew Dean, the real Dean, was his best friend Jo, who grew up with him since they were both in diapers. Her mother, Ellen, had the boys over so often, Jo was practically the little sister he never had. She knew of his protectiveness over his little brother. Hell, she shared the same protectiveness of Sammy. Only she and Sam knew that he went out to parties to try to drown away the emptiness that resided in him. Only they knew he didn't believe he had a higher purpose in life other than, 'Watch out for Sammy!' 'Keep Sammy safe!'

So when he received news at the end of his Junior year that he was a shoo-in to be the varsity team captain, he didn't have the heart to feel excited. To him, all that meant was that he was required to attend more parties and fuck more girls.

The day Dean Winchester's life truly changed was just weeks after school let out for the summer. It was a hot and humid day in the middle of July. Too hot to be outside. So Dean found himself sitting in the a/c on the couch in the living room, flipping through channels, when a commercial caught his eye. It was a commercial for the United States Army.

To this day he couldn't explain if his life depended on it why he stopped on the commercial, for he himself didn't know. It was like something in the back of his head told his thumb to pause and his eyes to glue themselves to the screen. Before he knew it, he was on the Army website looking for the nearest recruiter, hopping into his classic black 1967 Chevy Impala, and making his way to the station.

Not once did he stop and ask himself, 'What about Sammy? Who will look after Sammy?'

As he pulled into the parking lot, he didn't ask himself about Sammy.

As he greeted the recruiting Sergeant, he didn't ask himself about Sammy.

Nor did he question it when he was filling out the forms and agreeing to have his dad sign as his guardian.

He didn't need his dad's signature. He mastered it at the age of ten. All those forms that the school sends home at the beginning of the year, and all those permission slips for field trips to the museum and zoo, it was Dean who signed the go ahead.

It wasn't until he was laying in bed at the five star hotel the Army was paying for, that he started asking himself  _what about Sammy?_ By then he already took his Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB) test, which he scored an impressive 86 on. Before he left with the recruiter that afternoon, he told Sammy and his dad that he was staying the night at a teammates house and not to wait up for him.

When it finally hit, he picked up the phone, and called the first number he could think of. When Jo answered, he told her everything. At first she was pissed. 'I should kill you for keeping something like this from me!' But the anger didn't last long. Soon, she was asking what job he was going in for. 'Military Police.' Then, she was asking when he would be leaving, because surely they wouldn't take him out of school. 'Next summer, sometime after graduation.' Finally, after what seemed like hours, she was telling him that they were going to throw a big party the next night and he had better be there. Saying no to Jo about parties is like signing your death wish, so how could he say no to that?

After they hung up, he showered and was passed out on his bed. Before he knew it, the hotel phone was ringing for his four in the morning wake up call. The hopeful recruits ate breakfast and hopped on the bus, waiting to arrive at the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS).

Upon arrival, they were directed into what appeared to be a classroom, where they filled out medical information about themselves. Then, before leaving the room, they had to participate in a breathalyzer test. The men got directed down the hall to one room, the women to another.

The next four hours passed by slower than a snail in the middle of winter. Each man had to receive a physical exam, give a piss sample, have their ears and eyes tested, and give a blood sample.

To make matters worst, the building felt no warmer than fifty degrees. Even with the intense humidity outside, Dean had to admit it was too cold for comfort.

After filling out a background check packet, Dean waited what felt like another two hours before finally standing in front of the Army liaison officer. A quick review of all the paperwork and Dean was crossing the t's and dotting the i's and standing in front of a camera to have his photo taken.

Dean Winchester is now officially a future soldier of the United States Army.


	2. Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter is not beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> A bit of a warning, there is smut in this chapter. I've never written it before so if it's completely horrible, I apologize. Let me know what you guys think. Any criticism is better than none.

The party was in full swing by the time Jo and Dean arrived. Loud music filled the air as the duo walked down the street towards the house. Because of how crowded the block was, they had to park a distance away. Walking up the steps, Dean receive multiple back slaps by people he knew from school and people he saw in the hallway in passing between classes.

After getting back from the Army base (where MEPS is located), Dean called Jo to update her on what happened. He is to complete his Senior year in high school and then he's due to ship off to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri for basic training on July 24. Because of his active life style as a football player, the recruiters aren't making it a requirement for him to attend physical training (pt) days during the week until the football season has been completed. In which case, he is to arrive at the recruiter office every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon by four o'clock to perform stretches and drills with his fellow future soldiers.

Walking into the house, his feet automatically moved his body towards the kitchen, the obvious place where the booze was located. No one else is to know about him joining the Army until after his eighteenth birthday in January, an agreement both Jo and Dean agreed upon, considering he faked his father's signature.

The kitchen area was crowded with more bodies than you would think was possible, but with drunk teenagers anything was possible. Jo and Dean never really hung out much at these parties anyway. They saw enough of each other during school and at home that they were able to just hang out with their own group of friends. One of them would drive the two there and then the other would have to find their own way home.

Dean grabbed a random plastic cup full of beer and chugged it. Tonight was definitely a night to celebrate. This time next year he'll be getting ready to pack a backpack with the bare minimal as an overnight bag for basic training. He was finally getting out of this hell hole of a town.

It's not that Dean didn't love his friends and family here. He'll miss Bobby and Ellen. They practically raised him. And he'll definitely miss Sam. Sammy, who will only be fourteen when he leaves and just entering high school. But he's a smart kid and he makes friends easily. He's not a baby anymore. If he needs any help he can always turn to Jo, Bobby, and Ellen for advice and safety.

It was John he was worried about. His father didn't take his mother's death well at all. He lost the love of his life at such a young age and was left with a snotty nosed four year old and a baby to raise by himself. _Not that he really raised either of us,_ Dean thought bitterly.

He aimlessly reached for another cup of something. He didn't care what it was. Tonight was a night of celebration, after all. He didn't want to spend it with bitter thoughts of his dead beat father.

Dean lost count of how many beers he drank, as one beer turned to two, which turned to five, which turned to possibly ten. He's been to enough parties by his age that his alcohol tolerance was unbelievable.

At times it disgusted him how well he could handle his liquor. He didn't want to be like John if he could help it. It was bad enough that once he turned sixteen he had to take up his father's shift, or lack there of, at Bobby's auto shop.

Bobby Singer has been a friend of the family since before Dean was born. Bobby and John were best friends in high school. When John went into the Marines, Bobby opened his auto shop to support himself and his girlfriend, soon to be wife, at the time. Karen, like Mary, died at a young age. A lunatic broke into the house one night while John and Bobby were out at the bar having a guy's night out and stabbed her in the chest multiple times. They never did catch the killer.

Ellen Harvelle, Jo's mother, own the bar called The Roadhouse. It use to belong to Ellen and her husband, but after a hunting trip went wrong with Mr. Harvelle and John, there was nothing the doctors could do to stop the internal bleeding. Jo's father bled out.

Somewhere in the distance Dean heard a group of people shouting _SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!_ He made his way blindly in the direction of the noise and found himself with a row of multiple shots of liquor ranging anywhere from whiskey to tequila. With three others around the table it was a fight to the finish. Shot after shot, different liquor after different liquor, and Dean came out victorious. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as a cocky smile formed over his features. The small crowd that surrounded them cheered him on.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he spotted one of his fellow teammates, Gordon Walker. He was a tall, dark skinned man, kind of lanky looking. Though he wasn't muscular, he was toned, and he was one of the fastest sons of bitches the team had. Half their game victories wouldn't have been won if it weren't for Gordon.

“Hey, man! I heard the news! Congrats!” He all but yelled over the loud music and even louder crowd of teens. For a moment Dean thought he was talking about the Army, and he began to panic. Surely Jo didn't tell anyone about that. It was supposed to be between the two of them. Jo had a tendency to open her mouth a bit too far after one too many drinks.

But Dean had nothing to worry about, because next moment he knew, Michael, the star quarterback, came up to them and clapped him on the back. “Yeah, man. We heard! When were you going to tell us that you get to boss us around now?” he said with a smirk. “You weren't going to wait until our first practice to tell us you're the new captain, were you?”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. As far as most of the football team was concerned, if it wasn't about football, alcohol, or girls, it wasn't of importance.

He had to say something, though, because Gordon and Michael were looking at them expectantly. So he lied. What else was he supposed to do? He was just now finding out himself.

“Yeah, guys. Sorry about that. I only just found out myself before I got here! But you can bet that I'm not going to go easy on you guys. If I can out drink you, I can definitely out play you as well.” Ok, so maybe the alcohol was getting to him. Michael was at least three inches taller than him and definitely stronger, but he started slacking near the end of last season. Coach made him do extra laps after practice more times than anyone was willing to count.

Taking a quick glimpse at the clock on the stove, Dean realized he's been at the part for a few hours now and was not nearly drunk enough yet. He excused himself from his teammates and continued his way to the kitchen. Grabbing another cup of beer, he down it, refilled it, and downed it again.

He noticed a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter and grabbed it, making his way towards the couches in the living room. It's been a while since he last had some action, and what's the point of celebrating and getting drunk if you're not going to get any?

The couches was always his favorite place in the house to do his searching. It had a clear view of the middle of the living room, turned dance floor, as well as all entrances to the other rooms. Sitting down, he put the lip of the bottle up to his mouth and guzzled the burning liquid. 

Over the past year or so he noticed how every girl started to look the same to him. One drunk chick looked the same as the ten next to her. They wore shirts cut so low their boobs were practically falling out by the end of the night. When he first started coming to these parties, he couldn't wait to see the girls fight over him. Fight to see who was the lucky winner to get laid by Dean “the God” Winchester that night. But soon it became the same drama each party. He couldn't even differentiate between the girls other than comparing the sizes of their breasts and asses. And even then, he would sleep with who ever won the match. Didn't matter what they looked like.

It was the same routine each time. The winner would sit on his lap, they'd make out, then they'd go upstairs and find an empty bedroom and he'd fuck them from behind. He never took notice of their eyes, or their lips, the color of their hair. Really anything they made them different. Never paid attention to how their lips felt because by the end of the night, it wouldn't have matter. The girl would be so out of it the kisses would be bruise worthy. It wasn't of desire. It was alcohol induced sexual frustration that caused them to attack his mouth. Why should he look them in the eyes while he fucked them if they didn't mean anything to him?

Out of all the ways Dean was like John, the one way he wasn't, and the one way he desperately wished he was, is the fact that John was able to fall in love in high school. He had the apple-pie life planned and ready to go and just waited for graduation to come and pass before putting his plans into action. And Dean would never have that. Dean would never find that someone. Not while in high school at least.

Taking another hefty guzzle from the bottle, he started looking around the room. Same people there as any other party. Jo wasn't in sight, not that he would try something on her. They were brother and sister for Christ sakes! No matter what the rumors said! She was probably off with her friends. Maybe she left already.

Looking at the time again, Dean realized how late it actually gotten. It was nearing midnight now. Body's started dropping to the floor in alcohol induced sleep. But there were still quite a few people up and around. Many of them were pushed up against the way playing tonsil-hockey with others. Girl on girl action. Guy on girl action. And every once in a while there will be those two lost souls that thought maybe, just maybe, this party would be better from the last one. That this party is where the minds of the jocks and cheerleaders would change and not attack the guys who made out with guys.

But none of the still awake people interested him. So he continued to guzzle down the whiskey.

His bladder made itself known once the bottle was empty. With surprising difficulty, he pushed himself off the couch. The clock read just after twelve thirty. The music was still obnoxiously loud as ever. He knew there was a bathroom somewhere on the main floor, but when he found it, it was locked. Cursing himself, because he really didn't want to have to walk up the stairs, he made his way up the steps, trying not to stumble and fall. He really must have drunk more than he thought.

It took him a few minutes to locate the bathroom, having to step over unconscious bodies while in his own alcohol induced state. Thanking who ever was looking after him as his bladder reminded him yet again the need for release, he turned the door handle, glad that it was unlocked, and even more relieved that it was empty.

After relieving himself and washing his hands, he opened the door. What he was not expecting was for a body to fall into him as the door opened, causing them both to crash to the ground.

Gaining his bearings, Dean looked up to find a pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. He barely heard the apologies the person was saying. He was lost. Lost in those blue eyes. Lost and never wanted to be found.

He didn't know how long he was staring. All of a sudden, there was a hand snapping it's fingers in front of his face and the bubble that formed around him bursted, as the loud music downstairs attacked his ear drums and he heard a low, gravely voice speaking in front of him.

“I _said_ , are you ok?” And he realized with a start that the voice belonged to the person who fell through the door, the person with the bluer than blue eyes, the blue eyes that should seriously come with a warning label or else be considered illegal.

Slowly, his gaze traveled over the mystery persons' face. A strong jaw line, lightly dusted with stubble. Perfectly plushed, pink lips that looked softer and smoother than the finest silk, even though obviously cracked and dry. Straight nose, as if the Gods themselves carved it out of the purest marble. High cheek bones that defined the mans face. Sharp, yet softly shaped. Traveling up even farther, Dean noticed the mess of dark brown, nearly black hair that looked so silky smooth and begging for attention. And then he was back to those damn blue eyes again, with the slightest furrow of his brows.

“Uh...” he tried to speak and had to clear his throat before beginning again. “Yeah,” he managed to get out. “Yeah, I'm ok. You just gave me a shock is all.”

And then the man did something so unexpected that Dean couldn't help but jump. He started laughing. And Dean found himself joining in with the deep chuckle. Though on second thought, it shouldn't have been so surprising. They both must have been drinking a lot that night.

And sooner than Dean would care to admit, the man started getting up. And Dean would never admit out loud how adorable he thought this stranger was when he stumbled a few times in the process of trying to untangle their limbs. And if Dean didn't try to help him, well that was for him to know and worry about.

Finally, the dark haired stranger managed to get himself off the floor, and unfortunately off of Dean. He balanced himself against the door frame and held his hand out for Dean. Without thinking, Dean grabbed the hand too hard, and instead of being pulled up, he accidentally pulled the man down. He landed flat against Deans' chest and without warning the both of them broke out in laughter.

He had no idea how long it lasted. Hours, minutes, seconds. He just knew that once again he was lost in those should-be illegal blue eyes. Blue eyes that make the clearest oceans and seas green with envy.

When the laughter died down, they just smiled easily at each other. Laughter still evident on their faces, though no sound came out.

“I'm Castiel,” the man said. And man if that voice didn't shoot straight to Deans' dick.

“Dean.” he replied.

And they just stared at each other; easy, lazy smiles plastered to their faces. All sense of time forgotten to them. Until their smiles started to drop. And Dean wasn't sure if it was just him, but he could have sworn Castiels' eyes flickered to his lips then back up to his eyes.

It happened so suddenly, Dean wasn't sure who started it, but they were leaning further into each others personal space, until lips two sets of lips became one. Hands were moving of their own accord.

Deans' hands wound their way around Castiels' hips and back, gripping to his shirt as if it was a life line. Castiels' hands found their way in his hair. And if this wasn't the best damn kiss Dean has ever had.

Castiels' lips were as soft as Dean imagined. Soft, and pliable. Melting against his own. One of Deans' hands found their way into Castiels' hair, and yep, just as smooth as he thought. His hand tightened it's grip, ever so slightly. The moan that escaped Castiels' throat took booth men by surprise, and they froze. Green eyes opened to stare deep into blue.

As if they were meant to meet tonight, as if they already knew what the other man was thinking, they untangled themselves and scrambled to their feet. One of them closed and locked the door while the other frantically stripped. Hands were everywhere. Ripping off the unwanted clothing until they were both standing there, ass naked, in someone else's house, someone else's bathroom.

But they didn't care. They took all but a second to take in the view of the other man before mouths started attacking each other again.

Dean had Castiel leaned up against the sink. Hands ravishing the feeling of another's naked skin beneath them. His mouth slowly worked it's way from Castiel's mouth, to his jaw, then neck, and the feel of another mans' dick rubbing against his own was so intense that Dean doesn't know how he could have gone so long without experiencing this. He doesn't how he could have gone so long without experiencing Castiel's body.

And so Dean Winchester did something he never did during drunk sex.

Unlatching his lips from where they were forming a mark on Castiels' collarbone, where he was claiming Castiel as his own, he lifted his eyes and stared deep into the lust blown blue while he said, “Where the hell have you been all my life, Cas?”

Cas couldn't answer. He couldn't form words. His head thrown back as he moaned again, deeper than before, and rutted his hips against Deans', adding friction to their naked cocks.

Gripping Cas' thighs and lifting him up onto the sink, they communicated through their eyes as Dean was given permission to back away for a moment to dig through his jean pockets.

Moving himself back between Cas' willing legs, he lift his hand and didn't need to say anything as Cas started sucking on his fingers. The gasp that escaped his lips came as such a surprise, that a moan soon followed.

Never has Dean wanted someone as bad as he wanted Cas at this moment.

When Cas was sure Deans' fingers were nice and wet he let go, and Dean didn't hesitant to move them to Cas' hole. He slowly traced the tight ring of muscle, letting it get nice and wet, before ever so slowly pushing a single finger in, up to the first knuckle. Neither of them know who's gasp it was that rang through the air. It could have been both of them. But as Dean pushed his finger in farther, his lips found Cas' again and he swallowed the next sounds the beautiful throat was releasing.

Slowly Dean worked his finger in and out, stretching Cas' tight hole enough until he could fit a second one in. Again, he started with the first knuckle, and then slowly maneuver his fingers. Adding a third finger, he started scissoring Cas, stretching him as much as he could.

When he removed his fingers, Cas let out a soft involuntary whimper.

“Shh... I got you, baby,” Dean whispered against his lips, and blindly ripped the condom open, pushing it down his aching cock.

Spitting on his hand, he lubed the condom covered member as much as he could, before rubbing it against Cas' hole. Slowly, he pushed his cock into Cas, burying his face into the other mans' neck as a hiss escaped him.

When he was fully in, he stopped, letting Cas adjust to the difference in size, before slowly rocking his hips back and forth.

“God, Cas! So hot. So fucking tight for me.”

“Yes! Dean. Fuck! Harder!”

He didn't need any more persuasion. What started off as a slow rocking quickly turned into a full on attack on Cas' hole. At some point Dean grabbed one of Cas' legs, pulling it over his shoulder, causing him to pound deeper into the smaller mans body. Shifting the position just that much that every thrust in he was hitting Cas' prostate. And every thrust he was gifted with the sound of Cas' screams ripping out of his throat.

“YES! FUCK! JUST LIKE THAT, DEAN! FUCK!”

He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, and with all the power he could muster, he opened his eyes and looked at Cas' face. Watched as he slowly caused Cas to come undone beneath him.

“Cas. Open your eyes. Open your eyes for me. I wanna stare into those beautiful blue orbs while you come undone. Come on, baby. Open your eyes for me.”

And Cas did. As their eyes locked, they both came, blue staring into green. Cas' come painting their exposed stomachs.

Dean collapse on top of Cas' body. It wasn't until after they both caught their breath and shared a slow, passionate kiss that Dean realized, not only was that the first time he talked during sex, but that was the first time he said someone's name and looked at them.

And it was with a guy.

With a start, Dean backed away, his now soft cock sliding out of Cas' hole with a soft pop. He pulled the spent condom off and tied it before throwing it away in the trash, then hastily got dressed. He tried his best to block out the sounds of Cas' concerned voice as he pulled his shoes on, determinedly looking anywhere but at the naked man before him. And as he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom, he wishes he could say he didn't see the hurt look that crossed Castiels' face, or the tears slowly making their way down his cheeks.

As he walked out the house and made his way home, he wishes he could say he didn't hear Cas' voice running through his head, both the sex driven and the concern, and he wishes he didn't see his face every time he closed his eyes. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw lust blown blue eyes switching with the hurt and betrayed tear filled look that was thrown his way as he left him, spent on some strangers bathroom sink.

And he wishes, above all else, that he didn't just have the best God damn sex of his life!


	3. Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So after almost 12 hours of off and on writing, and one and a half monsters, I finally finished chapter 2!
> 
> Again. Not beta'd. Hope you enjoy. Would love to hear what you think.

The sun was shining through the blinds of Dean's window, casting beams of light over his sleeping face. Laying on his stomach, and legs twisted in his sheets, Dean blinked his eyes groggily as the birds chirped abnormally loud outside his window. The light was too bright for his eyes, as he heard his blood pounding through his ears as his raging headache from the night before made itself known.

Closing his eyes again, he slowly lifted himself off the bed; the alcohol from the night before still sloshing around in his stomach. Groaning, he rubbed his face with the palm of a hand as he sat up at the edge of his bed, trying not to move to quickly, allowing his stomach time to calm down enough before moving without the need to retch. Running a hand through his short blonde hair, he lifted his eye lids slightly, just enough to clearly peek through his eye lashes, but not enough to allow the sun light access to blind him.

Looking down, he noticed that he was partially undressed. His shoes from the day before was haphazardly piled against the wall, and his jacket and plaid over-shirt was thrown over a chair, almost as if someone else attempted to undress him and then gave up.

His eyes found their way to his nightstand. The alarm clock read two twenty seven in big digital flashing red lights. There was a glass of water and some aspirin next to it. It all made sense now. The clothes somewhat neat around his room, the water, and the medicine.  _Sammy,_  he thought, a small smile on his face as he grabbed the water and popped the pain killers in his mouth before lifting himself off the bed completely.

Stumbling slightly, Dean made his way out of his room and towards the bathroom. Palms flat against the sink, he leaned forward and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His pupils were still slightly dilated from just waking up. His face was just one shade too pale as he tried to hold back the nauseous feeling in his stomach. There was something dried up at the corner of his mouth, as if he threw up and didn't wipe his face fully after wards. Taking a moment to test the taste on his tongue, he determined that, yes, he did throw up the night before, but there wasn't any tell tale signs of doing so in the bathroom.  _Maybe I threw up on the way home?_

His hair was a mess. Even without using hair gel and styling products, as everyone swears he does, his hair was short enough that it usually stuck up spiky. Sleep usually causes the natural spikes to stick out and lay flat at random places where his head would rub against his pillow. Now, however, his hair looked completely unrecognizable, as if someone repeatedly ran their fingers through it at spots and grabbed at others the night before, intently set on ruining the natural spikes.

He made his way back to his bedroom, stopping once as his surprisingly shaky legs lost balance causing him to lean his body against the wall. Finally making it back to his room, he rummaged through his drawers, searching for some old clothes to wear. After pulling out a loose fitting pair of holey, grease stained jeans and a white sleeveless shirt, he made his way to the bathroom again, towel draped over his shoulder. After turning the shower onto a slightly hotter than normal temperature, he got undressed and stepped under the water. The steaming heat immediately relaxed his tensed muscles.

Try as he might, he couldn't remember the events of the previous night. Usually he would pass out on the couch at which ever house the party took place at until early morning when he would have to either drive home or walk. The last thing he could recall of the night before was sitting on the couch, drinking the half filled bottle of Jack Daniels.

All the thinking was making his still pounding headache worst, so he gave up and starting washing his hair. It was only when he started washing his body that he noticed his chest had something clear and crusted on it, but he didn't put much thought to it. Maybe someone spilled something.

He got out, got dressed, and made his way downstairs. The shower, thankfully, sobered him up and relaxed his body enough so that he didn't have to lean against the railing on his way down.

When he walked into the half kitchen-half dining room, he wasn't surprised to see Sam sitting at the table with a book opened in one hand and a pencil in another, working on his summer reading packet. Pulling out a bowl, a box of cereal, and the milk, Dean proceeded to make himself something to eat.

Without looking up, Sam said, "you seem like you had fun last night."

Dean grunted in response. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't remember.

"So..." Dean began to say, "thanks for, you know, the water and stuff."  _Really, Dean?Thanks for the water and stuff?_

"You're welcome. You were pretty out of it when you came in."

He groaned. Sitting down across from Sam, he began eating. "So, what happened when I got home?"

"Well... I came down for a glass of water around two. You didn't even make it to the couch. You were slumped on the floor, against the wall, near the door. I helped you up the stairs and undressed you a little before throwing your ass on the bed," he said the last part with a famous bitchface in place. "Then I came back down and grabbed us each some water and some aspirin for you. By the time I got back to your room, you were already passed out snoring."

"I don't snore, bitch!"

"Sure you don't, jerk." He wrote something down in a box before speaking again. "Anyway, you're lucky dad was in his room," he said, before turning back to the book, which Dean noticed was  _The Outsiders_.  _Good book,_  he thought before lazily shoving another spoon of cheerios in his mouth.

Dean groaned yet again. "Where is dad now?"

Without looking up and writing something else down, "he went down to Uncle Bobby's around ten. Told him you were still passed out," he replied. "He doesn't know you came home drunk," he said quickly before Dean could ask.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Dean finished his cereal and got up to clean his mess. He headed back upstairs and grabbed his jacket. He came back down and went to the front door. "I'm heading to Bobby's," he threw over his shoulder before walking outside into the hot July air, not waiting to hear his brothers response.

The drive in the Impala to Bobby's garage was quick, with the windows rolled down and the music up. As he rolled into the driveway, AC/DC's Highway to Hell was just finishing up.

Dean made his way behind the building where he knew his father and Bobby would be, either under the hood of a car or taking a break and drinking a beer. The smell of car oil and sounds of a wrench met his ears as he rounded the last corner and saw the two fathers in his life, one his birth father and the other who he considered his real father.

John's head looked up as Dean rounded the corner. Bobby walked out of the tiny office and gave Dean a half hug around his shoulders. "Hey, Dean. What are you doing here?" Bobby asked. "You're not schedule until tomorrow afternoon."

"Just thought I'd come by and see if you needed any help," Dean replied. In all honesty, Dean wanted to spend as much time at the garage as he could before he left next summer for basic. Once school starts up he'll only be able to come around during the weekend, since football practice would last too long after school to get any hours during the week.

"Sure. Help your pops with the corvettes' tune up. The quicker it gets done the faster we can all get out of here to clean up before Ellen's tonight. You know how much she hates us being greasy when we go to her house." Bobby said.

Something in the back of Dean's head tickled at the mention of Ellen's tonight. He faintly remembered Jo, or was it Sam, who said that Ellen was having a big dinner. All Dean paid attention to was the fact of free food, even if it meant having to help with the dishes. "Uh, what was the dinner for again?" Dean asked.

His father was the one who spoke up from the corvette. "We're meeting her step sister's kid tonight," he replied.

Dean shrugged.  _Ok, whatever,_  he thought as he grabbed the least greasy work rag and stuffed it in his pocket. He then proceeded to help his dad under the hood of the car.

An hour and a half later, the car's hood slammed shut as John and Dean wiped their hands off with rags. John finished his beer before telling Dean and Bobby that he'll see them later and headed home to wash up. Dean stayed behind a little longer, checking and double checking his schedule, making any changes with Bobby, before he too headed home.

John and Sam was just getting into John's truck when Dean pulled up. Dean waved them off with the promise that he'll be there soon. Another quick shower later, and Dean was heading out the door and to his Impala, making sure to lock everything up, and drove the short distance to Ellen's house.

As he pulled up, he noticed a few suitcases on the porch near the front door. Jo and Sam were walking through the door just as Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody started blasting from the stereo and through the open windows of the Impala. Before Dean could turn the ignition off, he heard Jo's voice loud and clear across the yard.

"Dean Winchester! Don't you dare turn that car off when the best song in music history is starting to play! You restart this song right now!"

Laughing, Sam and Jo made their way to the car as Dean got out, and all three of them started singing, rather horribly in Dean's opinion. He didn't notice the red headed girl or the light browned hair man that exited the house and joined them. Each of the five singing their own parts, somehow knowing which part was theirs. He didn't realize they had company until a deep gravely voice sung, "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? So you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby. Just gotta get out, just gotta get right otta here." He was lost in the sound of that voice singing, feeling the pain behind the words, as if this specific verse of the song was meant for him. Lost, because something tickled in the back of his mind, telling him he's heard that voice before. But the song wasn't over, and he sang along with the rest of the group, forgetting about the deep voice and the verse it was meant to sing.

As the song came to an end, Dean finally took notice of everyone in their small group. Little Sammy, to his left, wearing a short sleeved button up shirt and dark, almost dressy, jeans. He never wore anything less than dressy when going to Ellens', dressing like a tiny gentleman. Then there was Jo, dressed much more casual seeing as she lived here. Yellow tank and light blue jean shorts. Long blonde hair pulled into a loose bun to keep it out of her way while carrying stuff into the house.

The new arrivals to the group, the people he didn't know, had him curious. The red head was just a few inches taller than Jo. Her hair was also pulled up and back. Dressed similarly to Jo, she wore a pink tank and darker gym shorts. The man next to her had long, light red-brown hair, somewhere half way in length between Dean and Sam's (Sam insisted on almost never cutting his hair. It was almost touching his shoulders now). He wore a loose dark blue shirt that had a 'My Little Pony' on it, and jeans, lollipop stuffed unceremoniously in his mouth. Finally, Dean's eyes focused on the last of the group, the one who had the deep, almost familiar voice.

What he saw made his heart stop. Literally, he couldn't feel his heartbeat. He's fairly certain he stopped breathing as well. For what he saw was the bluest eyes he'd thought he's never see again.

A sharp intake of breath passed through his lips, as all the memories he couldn't recall from last night played on replay, as if he was watching a movie in his mind's eye for just him to see. Opening the door and having a body fall on him. Laughter. Kissing. Hands everywhere. Soft, smooth hair. Hungry, yet not alcohol induced kisses. Skin. Pale skin on a toned body, sitting on a sink in a locked bathroom. The feel of his dick inside another man's ass. The pool of arousal in his gut. The best release he has ever had after partaking in the most exhilarating sex he's ever experienced.

Then the horrible realization as he watched the memory of himself dress and leave, trying not to notice the concern and hurt. Trying not to notice the tears. He watched himself walk home. Throwing up on the side of the road. Somehow managing to fit the key in the lock of the front door.

And then he was back to reality. The blue eyes he looked into last night no longer held any warmth. Now they were full of pain and rage. The jaw set tight to prevent himself from lashing out at the man who fucked him and left. Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue ones. It didn't matter what he was wearing. All that matter was that Dean knew who this was, and Dean knew every hateful thought passing through those eyes was directed at him, and he deserved everyone of them.

Jo's voice cut through his attention as she starting introducing everyone. "This is Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel. They're my mom's step sisters' kids. Gabriel is starting his second year of college next month, Anna is starting her first. Castiel is going to be a senior with you this year, Dean. He's moving in with my mom and me. Apparently Aunt Lilith and Uncle Alistair wants a year off early and talked my mom into letting him move in."

"Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel, this is Sam and Dean Winchester." Sam shook the three proffered hands, smiles on all four of their faces, including Castiels', though his was tight lipped. Dean shook Anna and Gabriels' hands, smiles still in place. When he got to Castiels', though, the smile was replaced with hatred again, and Dean didn't understand why he felt a little bit of himself die at the glare. None of the others noticed the exchange while Jo continued talking. "I've known Sam and Dean my whole life. Our parents were friends in high school. Sammy here," Sam cut her off with a, 'it's Sam!' "is going into eighth grade. He's a sweet little teddy bear, no matter how tough he tries to act. Dean, though," she pointed her thumb towards Dean, which earned her a scowl in return, "is a whole different piece of work."

"I'm sure," Castiel mumbled, just loud enough for Dean to hear.

Ellen's voice called out from inside, and the five of them headed in (after Dean turned the Impala off). Dean and Gabriel grabbed the last two suitcases left on the porch in passing (which earned Dean another scowl from Castiel).

Once through the door, Castiel turned around and snatched the suitcase out of Dean's hand with a, "I can do it myself. I don't need help from  _you_." And yeah, Dean thought, no  _knew_ , he deserved it. He didn't say anything, he just let Gabriel and Castiel take the suitcases where they had to go, while making his way into Ellen's living room.

Gabriel and Castiel didn't come back down after that. When dinner was almost finished, Ellen walked into the living room with her apron on, flour and other stuff caked onto her clothes and hair. "Boys," She said in greeting, nodding her head towards the group. Anna and Jo were helping Ellen in the kitchen, so it was Bobby, John, Sam, and Dean sitting around the living room. Bobby had a half finished beer while John was working on his third, cheeks already getting rosy from the alcohol. "Dinner is almost ready. Sam, can you set the table. Dean, do me a favor and go get Gabriel and Castiel from upstairs. They're in your guest bedroom." Dean started groaning. Of course Cas would be moving into his room. "And don't give me lip. It's not your room, it's a guest bedroom. Now go."

They both said a quick 'yes ma'am' before Sam got busy in the dining room, setting the tables like the good boy he was. Dean, on the other hand, really didn't want to have to talk to Cas at all. How are you supposed to fake cheerfulness towards the guy you fucked then abandon?

A lot faster than Dean wished, he found himself up the stairs and in front of the door of the bedroom. He could faintly hear voices through it, loud enough to tell they were arguing, but quiet enough that you couldn't make out the words. Dean took a second longer than necessary before knocking once on the wood. The voices stopped.

The door flew opened and Dean got a face full of blue glaring at him.  _Great!_  He thought to himself.  _It had to be Cas who answered._

"What do you want?" Cas growled out. The urge to roll his eyes was too great and before he could stop himself he did just that. Cas only glared harder at him.

"Ellen says dinner is ready and told me to come get you. Believe me, if I had a choice, I would rather be setting the table. But, when Ellen tells you to do something, you do it."

It was Cas' turn to roll his eyes. Dean saw Gabriel get off the bed, lollipop still in his mouth as Cas shoved Dean aside, making his way down the stairs.

Gabriel shook his head as he said, "Man, he really doesn't like you."

They made their way down the stairs and into the dining room. Everyone was already seated by the time they got there, with the exception of Dean and Gabriel, since they just got there, and Ellen and Sam, who was helping Ellen bring the food out. Gabriel sat in the seat available next to Cas as the last of the food was placed on the table. Ellen made a feast, worthy of Christmas dinner. She had everything you could think of. From chicken to roast beef, to mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn and peas. On each end of the table were baskets full of bread. "Smells great, Aunt Ellen," Dean said after taking it all in. By that time, though, there was only one seat available, the one next to Sam and directly across from Cas.  _Shit!_  Dean cursed at himself as he realized it's his fault for not sitting before Sam. He sat down, deliberately looking anywhere but at Cas.

"Castiel," Ellen said. Cas' head snapped to her face. "Why don't you say grace for everyone?" she asked.

He took a deep breath before beginning. "I'm not really that big of a fan of praying..." he said, adding on, "Aunt Ellen," at the last second.

"Neither are we, to be honest. However," she paused, "when we have a big dinner like this, we all take turns saying grace. It doesn't have to be long," she added. And it really didn't. When ever it was John's or Bobby's turn to say it, that is literally all they said.

Taking another deep breath, Cas closed his eyes as everyone clasped hands and waited. When Castiel started speaking in his gravely voice, Dean couldn't stop the butterflies in his stomach.  _Seriously,_  he thought.  _Am I suddenly turning into Samantha or something?_

"Bless this food, Lord," he began, "for we are truly grateful for what we have. Let our days to come be as beneficial as today has. Let us find happiness in ourselves and each other, and forgive those who  _deserve_  to be  _forgiven_. Amen." Dean heard the stress on those words. He knew they were aimed at him. Which is why while everyone else sounded in a chorus of 'amens' before opening their eyes, he found Cas' blue ones staring into his. With a quiet 'amen' of his own, Dean tore his eyes away from Cas' and begin gathering food on his plate. No one else seemed to have noticed the interaction between the two seventeen year olds.

Dinner went by relatively fast. Everyone asked Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel questions, and vice versa. When everyone finished dinner, Anna and Jo helped Ellen clean up, and then they brought out pumpkin and apple pies for dessert, much to Dean's delight. "Aunt Ellen, you are simply the most wonderful human ever." This caused several pairs of eyes to roll, but he didn't care. He had pie. What more could he want?

Nobody moved once the pies were eaten. Everyone too stuffed to do more than lift their forks or push their plates away. Small talk began again soon after, and just as Sam was about to ask Dean a question, Jo's voice tore through the room.

"Dean, I just remembered!" she said excitedly, then asked, "When were you going to tell us you got picked captain?"

It took a moment for the question to break through Dean's food induced coma'ed mind, and when it sunk in he couldn't help the slight blush that formed on his cheeks.

"Uh, yeah," he began, clearing his throat. "I found out last night. A couple of teammates congratulated me on it."

A round of congratulations ran through the room. When John said, "I'm proud of you son. It shows commitment and responsibility," Dean didn't know what to do. He just did a small smile and that was it.  _Since when has he ever been proud of me?_  he asked himself.  _And commitment and responsibility my ass! I've been taking care of Sammy since before he could walk!_

Across from him, however, Cas mumbled, "great. Just means your even more of a dick than I thought." It was so silent, Dean almost thought he imagined it, but when both Gabriel and Anna gave him a funny look, he couldn't stop himself.

"You wanna share with the class, Cas?" he asked, letting the nickname slip from his mouth. He half wanted to take it back, but his anger overpowered his mind and he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry. Last time he called him Cas out loud was the night before.

"I  _said_ , 'just means your more of a dick than I thought'," he repeated louder.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he screamed, raising to his feet. Rule number one in Ellen's house: no cussing. But when Ellen yelled out a 'Dean Winchester!', he didn't have a care in the world.

"It means exactly what it sounds like!" Cas yelled back, and by this time they were both on their feet, hands curled into fists at their sides, glaring across the table. "It means you're the big, bad dick of the school who can go around doing whatever the fuck you please just because you're popular! Or are you too stupid of a jock to have figured that out yourself?"

Before Dean could get another word out, Ellen, John, and Bobby were on their feet yelling stop.

Taking a deep breath, Ellen stared at the both of them, then said as calmly as she could while pointing to the door, "the both of you, outside. Now!"

Dean knew he messed up. You don't cuss under Ellen's house. Rule number two was that you don't yell. If you break both rules, Dean let out an involuntary shudder. He didn't want to think what was about to happen. He's never so much as yelled up the stairs to get someone's attention.

By the time Ellen came outside, with Bobby and John trailing behind her, Cas was pacing back forth, you could literally see a straight line in front of the house where his shoes dug into the earth. His hands were clenching and unclenching repeatedly as he mumbled to himself, sending death glares Dean's way each time he turned around.

Dean on the other hand was in the Impala, laying on his back in the front bench, with the music softly playing. He knew what he did to make Cas so angry, but that didn't mean Cas had to bring it up at the table in front of everyone. But when he heard the front door slam shut and the three other pairs of foot steps accompany Cas', he turned the car off and joined the others.

"So," Bobby began. John looked down right furious.  _Well, guess he's no longer proud of me,_  Dean thought, smirking to himself.

Bobby cleared his throat loudly before he began again. "We just spent the pass few minutes discussing what happened in there. Either of you want to explain what that was about?"  _No. Not really. None of your business. I fucked up last night *literally*, and now I'm paying the price. No point in ever being proud of me, guys!_

When neither of the teenagers spoke, Ellen started this time, picking up where Bobby left off. "What it looked like to us is that Castiel was judging you before he got to know you," she began, looking towards Dean. Switching her gaze towards Castiel she said, "now, Castiel. I know we don't know each other that well, and I can't begin to imagine what your life at school was in the past, but we all want to get to know each other. We know Dean can be quite a handful," at this John huffed in agreement.

Sending a glare John's way, Bobby continued, "we think, since you two are closest in age, what with Sam being four years younger and Jo being both a year younger and a female, that the best course of action is to give you both the same punishment."

"So what do we have to do?" Cas asked, rolling his eyes, crossing his arms, and tapping his foot. Apparently, this is not the first time Cas has gotten into trouble before. "Wash your car? Clean the house spotless?" he asked.

"No," Ellen continued. "No. We think a week of alone time between the two of you is exactly what you need. Starting tonight, you will both either sleep here or at the Winchester's." A look of shock crossed both teens' face, Cs involuntarily dropped his arms. "You may alternate days for where you sleep if you wish. You must do everything and go everywhere with each other. This includes bathroom breaks. If one of you have to use the bathroom, the other will wait outside, same goes for the shower."

"But, Ellen!" You know Dean is pissed when he forgets the 'aunt' part. "Football practice starts tomorrow! I can't take him to practice!"

"And why the hell not, Dean Winchester!" It was John's uncontrollable raised voice this time. Dean just barely held back a jump. "You do the crime, you do the time. He doesn't have to do practice with you! He can sit in the bleachers for all we care! But you're taking him with you, and that's that!"

John stormed off into the house. Ellen just sighed and shook her head while walking away. Before leaving as well, Bobby said, "If I were the two of you, I would start discussing sleeping arrangements before walking back into the house."

When Castiel and Dean were finally alone again, both were too stubborn to say anything. Finally, Dean faced Cas and was not surprised to cold white fury in his eyes. "This is all your fault, Winchester. And I for one, am not stepping foot in your house." With that said, he turned around, made it half way before stopping. He threw over his shoulder, "I get the bed," and stomped his way back to the front door, looking like a small child throwing a temper tantrum.

Dean sighed.  _How the hell did you get yourself into this, Winchester?_ He asked himself. He rubbed both hands across his face and through his hair, let out one last sigh and thought,  _well, I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it,_ before he followed the others and walked back to the house.


	4. Some nights I call it a draw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the chick-flick moment. At the time when I wrote it, I had five monsters coursing through my system. Though when I reread it to edit, I noticed it wasn't completely horrendous. The typos in Dean's dialogue during that part is on purpose. I wanted to give the affect that he was trying to get it all out at once without pause.

 Cas didn't disappoint Dean by saying that he was sleeping on the floor that night.

When Dean walked back into the house after the confrontation outside by the grown ups, he walked back into the dining room. Everyone had migrated to a different part of the house. Cas and Gabriel apparently retired to Cas' new room to start unpacking; Sam and Jo took Anna outside to give her a tour of the outer part of the house (apparently they did the inner part when the new trio arrived earlier in the day); and Bobby and John were in the living room talking about the garage and what new appointments were scheduled for the upcoming weeks. Ellen was in the process of clearing off the table and putting food away.

Feeling guilty for what happened earlier, Dean automatically started helping her. He stacked what dirty dishes were left on the table and carried them into the kitchen, placing them on the counter as they waited to be washed and dried. Grabbing a wash cloth from the sink, he hurried back to the dining room to wipe off the table.

After feeling satisfied with his work, he walked back to the kitchen and started washing the dishes, while Ellen continued putting food away. Even though he knew that the adults were happy enough to give Dean and Cas the punishment they did, Dean still felt guilty. Ellen was like the mother he was never able to have. Knowing that he broke two important rules in the house, and knowing that he disrespected her, he couldn't stop the tears that started to form behind his eyes. Dean Winchester didn't cry. It wasn't manly; it was a sign of weakness, and while growing up he had to stay strong for Sammy.

"Hey, Ellen," he began. A soft hum was heard from behind him. He took that as permission to continue speaking. "I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I lost my temper over something stupid and I lashed out."

He could feel her gaze shift towards him from behind his back as she finished filling one of the tupper ware containers with food. "Now, Dean. I appreciate you apologizing, but I've known you for 17 years. Even though I don't approve of how you handled the situation, I understand why you acted the way you did." This surprised Dean. He was sure she would have yelled at him some more. He felt her presence beside him before she engulfted him in a hug. "You're more like your mother and father than you give yourself credit for." She must have saw the face he made, because she then said, "that's not necessarily a bad thing." He looked up at her then. This woman who practically raised him as her own, who apparently knew him more than he knew himself. At his confused face she continued. "You have your mothers' love and protectiveness. Anybody who has ever seen you with Jo and Sam knows that you'll do anything for them. But you also have your fathers' hot head and pride." She let this new information sink in a moment before she turned his body to face her as she spoke again. "There is a reason we said the two of you need to get to know each other. Cas and Jo will be living under the same roof for the next year. They will have plenty of time and most likely more than enough arguments to learn what to do and not to do around the other. Sammy easily accepts most people without problem. And as a younger child, Castiel is most likely going to take to him easier than anybody else. You, however," and at this she actually let out a chuckle. "As soon as you disagree with someone who is not Jo or Sam, you block them out. Now, if we are to live together as one, big, happy family this year, we need everybody on board. And with what happened a half hour ago, you were going to push him away and only come around when you had to."

He had to admit, she had a point. Then again, she didn't know the whole story. Only he and Cas knew what happened the previous night, and neither of them were going to tell anyone.

"Now get these dishes done. You have an early day tomorrow and I don't need the captain of the football team going to his first practice dead tired," she said, placing a soft kiss to his temple.

It didn't take long to finish the dishes. Jo, Sam, and Anna came back in a few minutes later and the four of them worked as a team, to wash, dry, hand, and put the dishes away in their proper places. Before any of them knew it, Anna and Gabriel were giving their farewell hugs and kisses to their brother and left to go wherever they were staying at until classes started up. Bobby left soon after, telling Dean not to be late for his shift the next day. Dean was scheduled to come in around one in the afternoon, giving him enough time after practice to get ready for work. John and Sam left about an hour later. Sam giving him a tight hug before leaving, wishing him good luck at practice the next day and begging him not to kill Castiel in his sleep.

As ten at night rolled closer, Cas realized the one dilemma about not stepping foot in the Winchester's house. He made this thought obvious when he told Dean, without looking up from his book, “You're not wearing my clothes to go to bed.”

“Hey, Jo.” Jo's head popped up from her own book. “Do you know where my spare clothes are for the night? I'm going to need them if you don't want me sleeping in my birthday suit,” he said with a smug smirk on his face, as his eyes shifted towards Cas' face gauging his reaction. His smirk grew as he saw disgust wash over the shorter mans' face.

Jo placed her book on the table beside her and got up to retrieve his clothes. When she came back in, she dropped them on his head then headed back to her chair, picking her book up again to start reading.

As Dean got up with his clothes in hand, he unsuccessfully tried to hold back a yawn, and started heading towards the stairs, fighting his body every step as it slowly got heavier and heavier with exhaustion. Without looking back, Dean threw over his shoulder, “and Cas. If you don't want me sleeping in the nude the rest of the week, you're going to have let me go home sooner or later to get some supplies.”

Without flipping on the lights at the top of the stairs, Dean made his way to the bedroom in the dark. Until about a year ago, Dean and Sam slept in the same room whenever they stayed the night. Being the older sibling, Dean got to keep his room while Sam moved to a smaller room down the hall. Well, that was until tonight at least. Now Dean was going to have to bunk with Sammy again after this week finished.

He opened the door and flipped the light on. Cas wasn't lying about sleeping on the floor. There was a pillow and a couple of blankets in a messy pile on the ground at the foot of the bed. _At least he was kind enough to get them out for me,_ Dean thought grumpily. He changed, throwing his dirty clothes in a pile off to the corner of the room, made a makeshift bed on the ground, turned the light off, and fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

He watched in horror as he stared at Mary's face, unable to move, being forced to memorize the look of pain and fear as the red-orange flames licked her skin, charring her smooth pale flesh into leathery blackness. He stood there for hours, just staring. Unable to close his eyes, to blink away the image now burned directly into his retinas. Once whatever had possession of his body got bored of just watching him stand still, not moving, it let his other senses take control. Glorifying in the pain the new found feelings caused him.

Touch filled his body as the sensation of heat from the surprisingly controlled fire of the nursery tickled his skin. Then the bubble surrounding his head burst as the sound came through, penetrating his eardrums. The roaring of the flames filled his head as they fought for dominance over the screams tearing away from his mothers throat. The crackling of the walls around him, a dull background noise, there but not really.

He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream and run to his mother, pull her from the flames and wrap her up in his arms. Yet, he still could not move. He stood there, not being able to do anything, watching as his mother slowly burned to a crisp in front of his eyes.

His mouth suddenly fell open, the sense of taste filling the cavity. The smoke licked his tongue, making him taste the denseness, the taste of charred skin. As if a hamburger or stake had been left on the grill, forgotten.

Finally, the possessor cursed him with smell. The initial shock alone left him dry heaving with no muscle movement. It was as if he was choking on the nonexistent projectiles in his throat. His mothers skin, the flames itself, the smoke. It overcame him as a scream fought it's way from his own, raw throat.

Dean awoke from the nightmare with a start, inhaling a deep breath of clean, crisp air. It was still dark out, which meant it was still pretty early. Castiel's light breaths rang through the room. Such a soft noise shouldn't ring so loud in the dead of night, but it did. Usually when at Ellen's, Sammy would laying next to him on the soft mattress. As it were, Sam was at home, in his own bed, while Dean was stuck on the hard floor, with nothing but a thin blanket underneath him. Stretching his achy back, he slowly stood up on shaky legs and headed to the door.

This wasn't the first time he had this nightmare. There was no real pattern to them. They came to him in the dead of night at random. The same dream; same outcome. The only thing that ever appeared to change was his age. As he got older and taller, the Dean in his dream did as well. But Mary Winchester still stayed the same age she was the fateful night when John was left wifeless, and his children, motherless.

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen in search of a glass of water, more out of need for his dry throat than for actual thirst. There's a thin line between dryness and thirst, and only those few unfortunate souls who had to experience the pain and agony that came with it knew what the difference was. It wasn't something easily explained.

After he finished the water, he rinsed the glass out and placed it in the dish drainer. Making his way up the stairs on still trembling legs, he wondered what the chances of falling back to sleep was. Most nights, he would hug Sammy until he passed out, either from exhaustion or from crying himself to sleep. Dean Winchester had a rule. You don't cry, ever. Crying was a sign of weakness. But his nightmares was the exception. Because while his body grew, even in the dreams, his mind was still a scared four year old.

He didn't realize he was back in the bedroom, under the safety of the covers on the mattress. He didn't realize that an arm wound it's way around his waist as he snuggled closer to the body. He didn't realize at the time that it wasn't his little brother Sammy, who was used to Dean having his nightmares in the middle of the night. And he didn't realize, as his body softly shook with silent tears streaming down his face, that the hand at the end of the arm that was wrapped securely around his body, was rubbing circles in his back, or that a deep, gravely voice was whispering soft words of comfort as he was rocked from side to side.

Dean fell asleep, not realizing that he was in bed, being looked after by the man he fucked on a sink in a strangers bathroom, only the night before, and than abandoned.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Dean woke up a few hours later, wrapped tightly around an unknown body. As the realization sunk in that he was wrapped around Castiel and not Sam, he quickly untangled himself from the other man. It wasn't the most graceful, nor smartest, of things he ever did at eight in the morning. Instead of getting himself separated from the other body and to his own side of the bed, he ended up falling to the floor in a heap of muscle and limbs, grunting as his body hit solid hardwood. It took a moment to gain his bearings, but after shaking the sleep from his head a few times, the sound of uncontrollable laughter met his ears, making him blush, both from embarrassment and annoyance.

Glaring at Castiel, Dean scrambled to his feet, picked up a random shirt from the floor, and fled to the bathroom. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, he rubbed his face with cold water from the sink. Only after he opened his eyes and look down did he realize he was wearing one of Castiels' shirts.

_SON OF A BITCH!_ he yelled at himself. _Can't I get one GOD DAMN BREAK?_

He barged back into the bedroom, pulled the shirt off, over his head, cursed again, and grabbed the clothes he wore yesterday. Before leaving the room, he turned and pointed at Castiel. “Not. A. Friggin'. Word. To. Anyone. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. We keep this between us. Do you understand?”

Cas couldn't help the smile on his face. With each word out of Dean's mouth it grew wider, until he was silently shaking with laughter, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Dean glared harder, trying to burn a hole through his smug head. Finally Cas was able to control himself long enough to nod his head in agreement.

With a quick 'get dressed' thrown over his shoulder, Dean left for the bathroom again. He quickly got dressed himself, then made his way down to the kitchen for a bowl of cereal. He was half way finished his food when Castiel entered the room and sat across from him. Finishing his bowl, Dean looked up and found Cas staring at him quietly. His glare intensified. Taking the bowl to the kitchen, he washed his dishes and made his way back to the dining room.

Cas was still sitting in the same spot as he left him; his eyes still staring at Dean as if he was a puzzle to figure out. He couldn't take it any more. “What the hell is your problem, man?” He almost shouted, but caught himself in time as he realized the early hour. The last thing he needed was a cranky Ellen who got rudely awaken.

“I want to apologize for how I reacted earlier,” Cas began. To say Dean was shocked would be an understatement.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he hissed, eyes narrowing into tiny slits.

Cas either didn't notice, or he didn't care. “It was wrong of me to react in regards to your specific reactions. I simply could not resist laughing. You should have saw your face, it was quite comical.” his lips twitched slightly at the memory, then became puzzled once again as his next words left his mouth. “However, based on what happened during the night, it was insensitive of me.” His eyes showed the telltale sign of forming tears.

“Look, enough!” Dean snapped. “I don't need your charity, or your pity. What I need from you is to not make me kill you by the end of this week, so that we can go back to our normal lives where we don't have to babysit each other. Understood?” Cas gave a small nod of the head. “Good. Now get something to eat so I can go home and get my gear.”

A half our later they were in the Impala, on the way to Dean's house. “First rule when you're in this car: Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole. Understand?” He didn't wait to see Cas' nod of the head as he rolled the windows down and turned the stereo up to the highest volume; Black Sabbath's End of the Beginning blasting through the speakers.

In no time at all, they pulled up to the house, Dean putting the car in park. “Don't touch anything. Don't look at anything. Don't breath on anything. If you have to look or breath, make sure it's outside the window.” He was out of the car before Cas could open his mouth to say anything.

It really didn't take long for Dean to find his football stuff. He had his gear bag packed for weeks now, sitting in his closet, ready to go. Grabbing his duffel bag from under his bed, he packed enough clothes to last the week. Walking into the bathroom, he grabbed his shampoo and conditioner, soap, and toothbrush. If he forgot anything, he was in too much of a hurry to notice; they could come back another day and grab it.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

They pulled into the schools parking lot fifteen minutes later. As captain, Dean was required to be the first, if not at least _one_ of the first, people there. Grabbing his gear bag from the backseat, he and Cas got out of the car as another car of students pulled in. Dean waited by the Impala until the players exited their own car, trying to see who he has the unfortunate pleasure of seeing first thing in the morning.

Adam Milligan, Dick Roman, and Nick Pellegrino stepped out of the 1993 Porsche. They walked over to the Impala, gear bags strapped over their shoulders, as they met up with their captain. No one took notice of Castiel as they greeted each other.

“Winchester, good to see you man!” greeted Adam. Nick just grunted an acknowledgment his way, as Dick bypassed the greetings and started walking straight to the locker room. Nick, Adam, and Dean followed him, as the small talk continued; Cas trailed behind. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

“So, Winchester, heard you're our new captain, congrats man!” Adam said, way to energetic this early in the morning.

“Yeah, guess I am,” Dean replied. He really didn't want to get into the small talk. He just wanted to get the first practice done and over with; but figuring he might as well play nice, he asked, “so how has your summer been so far?”

Adam was about to answer him, when Nick cut in. Apparently Cas wasn't staying out of sight as well as either of the two thought, because Nick asked, “so what's up with the dweeb behind us?”

Dean looked back, as if to show that he didn't know what Nick was referring to. He caught Cas' glare out of the corner of his eye before looking forward again. Pointing his thumb in Cas' direction, Dean said, “he's my Aunt Ellen's nephew. As punishment, I have to babysit him for a week. He won't be in the way, trust me.” He looked back again, just as Cas was about to say something, and gave him a look that said, _Don't even think about it!_ Cas closed his mouth and fell farther behind, keeping as much distance as he could from the jocks in front of him.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to get to the school, changed, and out on the field. Cas stayed in the bleachers, like John said. Since it was the first practice of the year, it was also the easiest. Couch wasn't there, so all Dean had to do was take roll call and start the stretches. He was glad to see that, not only was Nick, Adam, and Dick there, but Micheal, as well as Uriel, Gordon Walker, Azazel, Raphael, and Victor Henrikson.

The stretches were rather simple; lunges, arm circles, jumping jacks, and push ups, to name a few. Then they ran a few laps, getting their heart rates used to the cardio after so long. They ran a few practice plays, testing to see the potential of each others strengths, and working on their weaknesses. Before Dean knew it, it was time to hit the showers.

Walking out of the locker room, dressed in his work clothes, Dean and Cas made their way back to the Impala. As before, Cas kept his mouth shut and looked out the window as the stereo blasted. They pulled into the driveway of Bobby's house and made their way around to the garage.

As Dean worked, Castiel stayed off to the side and out of the way, watching him for lack of something better to do. Every now and then, Dean would get so caught up in his work, that he forgot to be rude to him, and would ask him to hand him a tool that he needed. Each time, Cas didn't know what he was talking about, and each time, Dean would have to stop what he was doing and explain the difference between one type of wrench to another.

It took longer than normal to finish the simple tune up, constantly having to explain what each tool was used for. When it came time for Dean's break, they both walked into Bobby's small office, and grabbed a soda out of the mini fridge in the corner.

“Alright, Cas,” Dean said, startling the other man a little. “If you're going to be around me at work, I'm at least going to teach you the types of tools. It took way too long to do that tune up.” At the hurt look on Cas' face, Dean quickly added, “it's not your fault, man! I forgot you probably don't know anything about cars.”

So the remainder of the half hour was spent with Dean teaching Cas the art of tools. The rest of the shift went by a lot faster than the beginning. The last job of the day was to change the oil of a Ford pick-up.

Dean relished in the thought of teaching someone something new. It might have taken a little bit longer than usual for the simple oil change, but the satisfaction of explaining something to Cas and answering his questions, made his heart flutter just a teensy bit.

The change in Dean's mood was obvious. Instead of rolling down the windows and blasting the music, Dean had the stereo low enough that the music was just simply background noise. The windows were still rolled down, but only just enough that it sent a breeze through the car instead of deafening them.

Cas noticed the change immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Cas look at him like he was some unique puzzle without a solution. After a few minutes, Dean let out a sigh. “Ok, Cas, spill. What is it? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, actually leaning up to look at himself in the rear view mirror.

“Well, you do have some grease on your cheek,” Cas joked, a small smile beginning to form on his lips; Deans' own twitching up slightly. It was gone as fast as it appeared, though.

“But, seriously, Cas, what is it?”

Dean knew what the problem was. How could he not? The past few days haven't exactly been easy for him either. Though he supposed he could have acted differently, but he wouldn't be Dean if he didn't freak out. He sighed, bracing himself for Cas' next words.

Cas sighed as well. His face turned serious; any sign of a smile long gone.

“I don't understand, Dean.”

_Yeah, because that explains everything,_ he thought to himself. And really, if he really thought about it, it did.

_Come on, Winchester! Man up! Take the first step!_

“Look, Cas,” he began. _Shit!_ he thought. This wasn't Dean Winchester, it couldn't be, not really. Dean Winchester didn't talk about feelings. He didn't have heart to hearts like a girl. _Am I growing a vagina now or something?_

The tension in the Impala was thick. Even with the windows rolled down halfway, he felt close to suffocating. Cas held his breath while he waited for Dean to continue.

_Fuck it!_ he thought. _The best place to start is at the beginning._

He held his breath, not sure if he was preparing himself more for what he was about to say, or for Cas' reaction. He rolled his window down more, sweat building up on his brow.

“Look. Before I begin, I'm just warning you now; I don't do chick-flick moments. So the fact that you're getting anything out of me is a miracle.” He took another breath, trying to settle his nerves. His hands shook slightly on the steering wheel; he gripped it tighter, the knuckles on his hands turning white with the pressure.

He took one last breath, held it, then let it out slowly. _Nope,_ he thought. _Still doing jack shit for my nerves._

“The other night, at the party. I'm sorry man, I don't know what came over me.” _There you go, Dean. Baby steps._

_**Oh, shut up!** _

Cas nodded, though he wasn't sure if it was in understanding or permission to go on.

He took another deep breath, hands clenching around the leather a little bit harder. “I mean... I'm not gay. I don't know why I did that. I guess I was just really drunk and you were there and it just happened and when I realized what we did I freaked, ya know?” A quick look to the side told him that, no, Cas didn't know. “I mean, I'm not homophobic, if that's what you're worried about, I mean if you swing that way.”

_You're rambling, Winchester!_

_**I said, 'SHUT UP!'** _

Cas' voice surprised him when he finally spoke. “I don't understand, Dean,” he said, gravel voice softer than he though it could be. “If you're blaming it as a drunken mistake, then why leave the way you did?”

_He doesn't understand! Why won't he just understand? Shit!_

“Am I going to have to spell it out for you, Cas?”

No response. He just kept staring at Dean, head cocked to the side, brow furrowed, with those wide blue eyes, waiting to understand. _He looks like a friggin confused kitten!_

“Because I panicked, Cas!” _There, I said it!_

“And yet, you're still calling me 'Cas',” he deadpanned.

He sighed again. _Might as well just get it all out,_ he told himself.

“Ok, here's the thing, Cas. That night was a first of a lot of things for me. First time with a guy; first time talking during...” he gestured with a hand, “you know... first time saying someone's name; first time looking at someone, like really looking; and first time looking them in the face, in the eyes, during the whole thing. I freaked! I don't know what came over me and I freaked. And next thing I know you're standing in front of me outside Ellen's after I just made a fool of myself singing Bohemian Rhapsody of all things! And then we were yelling at each other at the table.” He took a deep breath before continuing, not letting Cas get a word in, because if he does, then he'll never be able to finish. “Next thing I know, I'm having one of my nightmares again and you're holding me and letting me cry and I never get that open, not unless it's with Sammy. Then I freaked out again this morning and you just sat there and laughed! And you really are a cool guy, sort of, once you let your guard down!”

_Did you really just say all that?_

_**I think I did?** _

_Holy shit you did!_

_**Quick, look at Cas and find out what he thinks!** _

He let his gaze drift to the side. Nothing! He just turned in his seat and stared out the window! _What the hell?_

They were almost back at Ellen's when Cas finally spoke up. “That's a lot to take in, Dean.” He sighed, relieved. _**Well, he isn't yelling.**_ _Yet._ _ **Oh shut up!**_

He waited. He didn't know what else to do _but_ wait. As he pulled into the driveway, the deafening silence became too much for him. He turned his baby off, but didn't get out. Cas looked over at him, worry evident in his face. “What is it, Dean?”

“'What is it?' Cas, what the fuck do you think it is?” he exploded. “I just did a big ass, chick-flick induced speech and you just fucking sit there! I don't even do chick-flick with Jo, and she's my _best_ friend!”

Cas cringed. A part of Dean, the sadistic part, was proud to have caused this reaction. But then Cas' face fell, and he opened the door to get out.

Dean grabbed his arm before he could get away. “Cas, wait.” He saw Cas look up at him, but instead of the adorable confused kitten face, he now looked like a kicked puppy. “I'm sorry, ok,” Dean said again for the umpteenth time within the past hour. “Look,” _what are you, a broken record?_ _ **Shut. Up!**_ “I wasn't lying when I said you're a cool guy. I want to be friends, and not just because it will make it easier on everyone if we got along. I'm not the stuck up captain of the football team everyone thinks I'll be. I really do want to be friends.” The change in Cas' face was automatic. Hope filled his eyes as his face smoothed out, no longer crestfallen. “Did I mention that you hurt my pride twice in the past twenty four hours?”

The crestfallen look came back. “I'm sorry, Dean.” And he believed it.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Dinner that night went as well as could be expected. Ellen and Jo were relieved when Dean and Cas didn't appear to want to rip each others throats out anymore. Dean talked about the teams' first football practice and Cas explained, in great detail, about their day at Bobby's.

When it was time for bed, Dean changed in the bathroom while Cas changed in the bedroom. But, when he went to lay down on the floor, this time Cas interrupted him before he started crouching.

“Dean?” he asked in a small voice. He looked kind of worried, as if he was scared to continue with his thoughts. Dean looked at him and saw that his fingers were fidgeting with the blanket. When he looked up, it wasn't at Dean. He focused his gaze on the ceiling as he continued speaking. “Remember, earlier, how you said you wouldn't care if I was gay or not?” he questioned. Dean remembered, and he let Cas know this by nodding. He took a deep sigh before saying, “Were you serious?” His eyes shifted to Deans' face before turning back to gaze at the ceiling.

“Of course, Cas.”

Relief flooded his face for a brief moment before turning worried again. They didn't need to explain the obvious need for the question. Dean understood. But he could tell that Cas wasn't finished wanting to talk. “What is it, Cas?” he asked.

“I was a bit of a jerk last night,” he began. “I understand if you choose not to, but if you wanted to, you could sleep in the bed with me. I won't try anything. I promise.”

Dean didn't say anything. He leaned forward and grabbed the pillow on the floor, before walking towards the bed.

That night, Dean didn't have any nightmares.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The rest of the week past in a similar way as that first day, minus the nightmare and the embarrassing laughter from Cas the next morning. Football practiced was held Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, and while Dean would get jokes pointed his way, mainly along the lines of _'I see your boyfriend is here again,'_ he couldn't wait until the afternoons where they could spend time getting to know each other. When they weren't at Bobby's garage (Cas helping Dean however he could while learning new ways to care for a vehicle), they were in Cas' new bedroom.

Dean found out that Cas' favorite colors were black and green (separate, not so good, but together it's like a rain forest waiting to be discovered!); his all time favorite food was potatoes, any shape and form (like mashed potatoes, french fries, and chips); and his dream job was to become a doctor.

One day, near the end of their punishment, Dean asked a question that had been bothering him since they met at the party, but only realized the next day when he wasn't so drunk.

“Hey, Cas,” he asked. Cas was laying on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find shapes in the cracks. He hummed, letting Dean know he had his attention. “Where did your parent's come up with your name?”

Cas had actually smirked. “It's a different spelling of the name Cassiel; the Angel of Thursday,” he replied. He didn't ask why. Dean figured he had been asked that too many times in his life that he lost count.

He just hummed in acceptance.

When they went to bed that last night, Dean unknowingly wrapped his arm around Castiels' waist, pulling him closer and rubbing his nose in the dark brown, nearly black hair behind the shorter man's ear.

And when he drifted off to sleep that night, he was surprised he didn't know, nor cared, what his last thought meant.

_I'm going to miss this._


	5. Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize now if this chapter is complete crap. It took me the better half of fifteen hours to write this. The next chapter, however, I should have up fairly soon. It shouldn't take me more than two hours.

 The next morning they woke up, got dressed, ate, and then left for Dean's football practice. Their punishment didn't end until dinner that night, so they still had the most part of the day to hang out. Dean didn't understand why, but the closer it came to dinner that night, the more upset he got.

 

It started during football practice that morning. Roll call had already occurred and they were in the middle of stretches. During the overhead arm pull, a stretch where you place your arm behind your head and then pull at the elbow with the other hand, he heard Gordon and Uriel whispering to each other.

 

"So what do you think is the deal with Winchester and that kid that's been following him?" Gordon asked.

 

Uriel gave a huff of annoyance. "Probably butt buddies, if anything."

 

"So you don't believe Winchester's story? The whole 'punishment' thing?"

 

The coach called out 'switch'. While switching arms, Uriel answered Gordon's question. "Hell no. Do you see the way they look at each other? I mean, I understand the punishment, babysitting a dweeb for a week and not having a life. But, no one looks at their charge unless it's with hate and disgust in their eyes." They both chuckled to each other as the exercise finished.

 

Before Dean could act on the rage that was slowly building inside him, coach told them to do laps. Sending a glare their way, Dean made his way around the field, mind busy, thinking in overtime.

 

_**What the hell did he mean 'do you see the way they look at each other?'?**_

 

_Well, you do stare at Cas' eyes a lot._

 

**_Fuck you, I do not!_ **

 

_Oh, really?_

 

Dean's eyes looked up and locked on blue. Even from a distance Dean could make out those blue eyes perfectly. He was surprised to see he was already running along the side with the bleachers. His legs were pumping and he was running faster than he normally did. By the time he got to the end of the lap, there was only one other person waiting. Gordon Walker, fastest on the team, was standing there drinking water when Dean arrived. A smug smirk formed on his face.

 

"What the hell is your problem?" Dean snapped upon seeing the smirk.

 

Gordon shrugged his shoulders and looked away. When Uriel jogged up, he and Gordon walked away and formed a little huddle of just the two of them until the team finished the lap. Every once and a while Dean would notice them looking his way or pointing up at the stands where Cas sat.

 

Once again, the coach cut Dean off before he was able to do anything.

 

"Ok, team," coach Armstrong began. "You're all doing great so far. Tomorrow we'll separate into two teams and do a practice scrimmage. But for now, let's run some drills."

 

They formed two lines. Dean, since he's the captain, was able to successfully separate Uriel and Gordon for the rest of the practice. After the drills and warm down stretches, the team was dismissed for the day.

 

Dean held back from the rest of the team, packing his bag slower, as he waited for Cas to come down from the bleachers. On the days where Dean didn't have work after practice, he would stay on the field longer and wait for Cas, then they would walk back to the Impala and head to Ellen's. Today was no different.

 

Except, Dean wasn't planning on Gordon and Uriel staying behind as well.

 

"Aw, Uriel. Look at the little lovebirds," Gordon said behind Dean's back. "Don't they look so cute together?" He sneered.

 

Dean's eyes narrowed as his body stiffened. Jaw clenched tight, his eyes found Cas'. Cas was the poster child of cool, calm, and collect. The only part of his body that gave any indignation that he heard the comment was the look of pure horror that found it's way to his eyes.

 

One night while they were getting ready for bed, Dean asked Cas about his sexuality. He found out that one of the reasons school was so hard for him was because of the torment he received from his classmates, fueled by the jocks' homophobic behavior. At his other school, if you were anything a jock hated, or if you disagreed with a jock on something, then you were tormented; which meant even those students who didn't care about Cas' sexuality tormented him in fear of being on the receiving end of it themselves.

 

That night, Dean agreed to help keep it hidden at Lawrence High. Cas did tell Jo and Ellen, and after some persuasion, he told Sam and Bobby. John is the only person in their immediate circle of family and friends that was kept in the dark.

 

Uriel huffed in response. “There is nothing cute about being someones' butt buddy, Gordon.”

 

Dean grabbed his bag and turned around. He sent a sneer of his own towards his two teammates and grabbed Cas' arm to steer him toward the parking lot. Cas twisted away from Dean, successfully braking free of his grasp as he glared at the two jocks.

 

“Do you have a problem with me or something?” he growled out. It was authoritative; deep; a voice that demanded respect. There was anger in his eyes; pure, white hot anger. The look Cas gave him that night at dinner a week ago was love compared to this.

 

Dean looked at Gordon and Uriel, to register their reaction, as Cas continued. “Dean and I are friends. Nothing more than that,” he said in the same voice. He took a step forward. “Don't let me find out.” And another. “That you've given Dean problems.” One last step and a narrow of the eyes. “Because I will make you regret it.” Cas stood in front of the football players. Dean saw them physically shake, fear coursing through their bodies. Cas leaned his head in and whispered quietly. So quiet that Dean almost missed the next words. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, Cas turned and walked away, grabbing Deans' arm in the process.

 

The car ride to Ellens' was quiet. The stereo was off, something Dean rarely did. Cas sat with arms and legs crossed, eyes focused out the window. Dean stared forward, hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel.

 

_**What the hell was that?** _

 

_It would seem Cas got angry._

 

_**Yeah. But what the HELL was that?** _

 

_Do I have to repeat myself?_

 

_**Why would Cas -** _

 

“Dean.” It was quiet, Dean almost didn't hear it.

 

“Yeah, Cas?” he asked with a quick look towards the passenger seat.

 

“I apologize. I got angry. I hope this does not affect your relationship with your team members.”

 

“Cas, what the hell happened back there, man?”

 

He heard Cas take a deep breath. “I never told you why I had to come here, did I?”

 

Dean thought back to the previous week. “No. No one said anything. Jo, Sam, and I just know that you're staying for senior year.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Cas look his way before glaring out the window again. “I got expelled from my old school for beating someone up.”

 

If it weren't a serious situation, Dean would have laughed. As it were, he couldn't prevent the slight twitch of his lip. He saw Cas' own lips twitch as well. “Not for nothing, Cas, but you don't seem that threatening. Though based on what I just witness, I see how you could, at least, make someone piss themselves.”

 

“Yes, well.” Cas had a satisfied smirk on his face before saying, “looks can be deceiving, Dean. Even gay people can kick ass every now and then.”

 

“I didn't mean it like that, Cas,” he said quietly.

 

“I know.” He sighed. “It's just, people assume the worst of others just because they're different than you.”

 

A few minutes passed by in silence again, not as uncomfortable as before, but there was still tension. Dean replayed the scene on repeat in his head. His eyes opened wide as realization hit. “Cas?”

 

“Yes, Dean?” He didn't look at Dean, just kept his eyes outside the window.

 

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

 

Cas sighed. “Mean what, Dean?”

 

“You know what I mean, Cas!”

 

Another few moments passed. Cas didn't answer his question.

 

_**Why the hell is it so hard to say a simple yes or no?** _

 

_Why do you care so much?_

 

_**\---** _

 

_No answer? Is it because you don't know, or are you too afraid to know?_

 

_**I am NOT having a chick-flick moment with myself!** _

 

_So, you do have feelings!_

 

They were pulling into the driveway when Cas finally answered.

 

“Yes. I did mean it, Dean. I would say the same thing for Jo and Sam if the situation occurred.”

 

“I know you would, man.”

 

_**See! It's not just me. So stop making something out of nothing!** _

 

_Maybe you want it to mean something._

 

As they walked into the house, though, Dean couldn't fight off the warm feeling in his stomach.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Jo was in the kitchen helping Ellen with dinner when the door bell rang. Dean and Cas was in the living room watching the pilot episode of Boy Meets World. Dean got up and answered the door, he was surprised to see Bobby and Sam on the other side. “Bobby? Sam? What are you two doing here?” he asked.

 

“Dad went to the bar and hasn't gone shopping since before your punishment began,” Sam answered. “So I called Uncle Bobby to pick me up and Aunt Ellen said that we could come over for dinner.”

 

Just then, Ellen walked into the hall. “Boys,” she greeted. Sam ran towards her and gave her a hug; she kissed the top of his head. “How about you help Jo set the table, huh?” Sam nodded and ran off into the dining room.

 

“Hey, old man,” she greeted Bobby.

 

“Ellen,” he nodded his head.

 

“Dinner is almost ready. Tell Castiel to get cleaned up,” she told Dean, as she and Bobby headed to the kitchen. Dean nodded and made his way back into the living room.

 

“Dinner's almost finished, Cas,” he said when he sat down on the couch. Cas nodded his head. A few moments passed before Dean said, “Ok. I don't get it. I mean,” he said at Cas' confused face, “I know he says, 'The tragedy is not about a dumb girl, or the boy who kills himself because of her. It's about the all-consuming power of love and the inevitability of its influence on each of our lives.', but what's the deal? Cory's right, he's only eleven! Why does he need to worry about love at such a young age?” he asked.

 

Cas sighed. “Is it just because he's eleven, or is it the concept that two people who just met, claim they are in love and are willing to die for it?”

 

Dean thought for a moment, then answered, “Both.”

 

Before Cas could answer, Sam came into the room and told them dinner was ready. After washing up, they made their way to the dining room. Dinner was rather uneventful, and after dessert Bobby went home. Jo and Sam cleaned the table while Dean and Cas went back into the living room; the fourth episode of Boy Meets World was on. Dean soon found out that a half hour episode could turn into an hour long debate.

 

“They are totally meant for each other!” Jo nearly shouted.

 

“How can you tell that from _one_ episode?” Dean asked.

 

“They wouldn't introduce a female character in this fashion if she wasn't going to be an important part of the show.”

 

“Not helping, Cas!”

 

“It's still early in the season,” Sam said. “Even though the fourth season is coming out in a few months, how do we know she's going to last?”

 

“Thank you, Sam. Yeah, how do we know she's going to last?”

 

“We don't, but their first encounter offers the allusion that they will eventually become a couple.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Isn't it obvious, Dean?” Jo asked, to which Dean cocked an eyebrow.

 

Cas sighed. “Within the first minute of them talking Topanga grabbed his hand.”

 

“So?”

 

“It indicates a physical relationship.”

 

“No it doesn't! It just means she's weird!”

 

“What does being weird have to do with anything? Weird's not a bad thing, Dean.”

 

“I never said that, Sam.”

 

“To quote Feeny, 'strange is in the eye of the beholder.'”

 

“Shut up, Jo. Besides, that doesn't prove it's going to end up a physical relationship!”

 

“The first contact a person has with another could in fact indicate a physical relationship, Dean.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Do you have to repeat that question every time you talk, Dean?”

 

“If it helps getting my point across, then, yes, Sam.”

 

“Think of it this way, Dean,” Jo began. “Go back to all the parties you've attended.”

 

“Do we have to talk about my sex life?”

 

“If it helps getting the point across.” Dean and Jo glared at each other for a moment. Jo continued. “Anyway. The first contact you make with someone is always kissing. Then, you move it up to a bedroom and take her from behind. That indicates a short term relationship, if any at all!”

 

Sam looked disgusted at the topic; Cas looked uncomfortable.

 

“And. So?”

 

“You've always stuck with the same routine! You've never switched up!” Dean looked away. “Oh. My. God!”

 

_**SHIT! Why did you look away?** _

 

_Because you're an idiot!_

 

“Why am I just now finding out?”

 

“Don't worry about it, Jo! Can we just get back to the show?”

 

“Fine. So there's that theory! The first physical contact between two people can indicate their type of relationship.”

 

“Well, what about nonphysical contact? It can't just depend on the physical aspect of a relationship?”

 

_Damn, Sammy. When did you get so smart?_

 

“There's also the emotional part we witnessed in the episode.”

 

“You want to enlighten the class, Cas?”

 

“Topanga understands that Cory tries to act like everyone else instead of who he really is. And, when he embarrasses himself, she still accepts him.”

 

“Again. Weird!”

 

“She also kissed him and kept his baseball cap!”

 

“She could have stolen it from him! And, they were handcuffed together!”

 

“It could indicate that she'll be a great lay!” Jo said before being consumed in uncontrollable laughter.

 

“Fine! Whatever! You guys win!”

 

Soon after, Sam and Dean said their goodbyes and went home.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ 

 

As Dean laid in bed, he couldn't help but miss the warmth and comfort that Cas provided. They did, after all, sleep in the same bed together for six nights straight.

 

The first night was a little uncomfortable. It wasn't that Dean was afraid to be near Cas, but after the 'coming out of the closet' reveal, Dean couldn't help but feel a little odd. Here he was, laying in bed with the guy he drunkenly slept with only two nights before; who just so happens to be gay.

 

The next night was a little easier. True to his word, Cas didn't try anything with Dean. They agreed to be friends, nothing else. Cas accepted Dean's view on the situation and didn't push any farther. It didn't, however, stop them from waking up the next morning with Dean's arm across Cas' stomach and Cas' head on Dean's shoulder. They just nervously laughed it off, saying it was 'due to the unconscious mind seeking comfort from a warm body', or whatever Cas had said.

 

The last four nights, they unconsciously got closer and closer on the bed, until last night, when Dean wrapped his arm around Cas. He realized that he did it. He remembers thinking that he would miss it. What he didn't realize is how much he would miss it.

 

As he laid in bed by himself that first night after the punishment ended, the warmth of Cas' body against his, the soothing sound of Cas' slow breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, and the pounding of his heart was all missed. He felt a gaping hole in his chest.

 

That first night sleeping alone, he had his nightmare again.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean woke from his sleep. His heart raced beneath his chest; breaths came fast and frantic; sweat piled on his brow.

 

Soft light filled the room as he looked towards his night stand; a groan slipped his lips at he took notice of the time. He got out of bed; it was too late to go back to sleep, but too early to get up on a Sunday morning. He opted for an early morning run to fill his time.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The rest of the week played out in much the same way. Every night he went to bed, the gaping hole feeling like it got bigger and bigger as time passed. The few football practices during the week were fairly uneventful. Gordon and Uriel kept any comments they had about Dean and Cas to themselves. Coach Armstrong notified everyone at the last practice that the cheerleaders were going to start practicing with them the following week, which earned appreciative cheers from everyone on the team.

 

Dean didn't necessarily avoid Ellens' house that week. He went to work and practices, and when he wasn't at either, he cleaned the house and went grocery shopping. With food in the fridge, they didn't have to worry about starving. When John wasn't at work, he was at the bar getting drunk. Some nights he would come home completely hammered; throwing up in the bathroom. Other nights, he just passed out in bed, or on the couch if he couldn't make it that far.

 

It wasn't until the Friday after the punishment ended, a whole two weeks after it started, that Dean noticed how not being around Cas affected him. He was in the dining room, eating a sandwich, when Sam entered.

 

“Dude. What's been you're problem this past week?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You've been moping. Like, hardcore moping. What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing, Sam.”

 

“I'm going to hate the fact that I asked this, but... do you need to get laid?”

 

Dean thought about it. The last time he did get laid was with Cas. “Yeah. You know what. I think I do.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Go out tonight. Have fun. And if by some miracle you end up bringing a girl home, try to keep it quiet, please? I don't want to hear anything.”

 

Dean nodded his head. After he finished is food, he called Ash Linberg. Ash was the schools' honorary geek. The man could hack any system and his fake id's looked legit.

 

It only took two rings before Ask answered.

 

“Ash Linberg, how can I help you?”

 

“Yo, Ash. It's Dean Winchester. You busy today?”

 

“Winchester, my man! Congrats on making captain! I can always make time for the king of the school!” Dean made a face. He did not like the sound of being called 'king of the school'.

 

“I need a fake id. Going to aa out of town club tonight to celebrate. Haven't had the chance yet, what with work and practices.”

 

“Yeah, man. Swing by in an hour. It'll only take a few minutes. Just need a picture of you.”

 

“Aw. Ash. Stop. You're making me feel all tingly inside.”

 

“Shut up, Winchester!” he chuckled. “Be here in an hour.”

 

The phone went dead.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean found himself in line outside an unknown club later that night. The club in question was about an hour away from Lawrence; he wanted to by-pass any chance of running into someone from school.

 

The bouncer checked his id, then let him through. It wasn't exactly crowded, but there were enough people there that made the inside just that little bit too hot. He made his way to the bar; ordered a beer and a double of whiskey; and sat back, watching people dance and listened to the music.

 

_God, I hate this music! What ever happened to the good music? The classics?_

 

When he finished his beer, he ordered another and two more double shots. A half hour later, he looked at his watch, and noticed how late it was. He was just about to head home, when a very drunk voice next to him ordered a drink.

 

He turned towards the voice. The girl was rather attractive; she had short, dark brown, almost black hair, evenly parted in the middle; and clear blue eyes.

 

A warning sensation shot through the back of his mind, but he was too drunk to pay attention to it. The girl received her shot, a double of tequila, and turned towards Dean, meeting his eyes.

 

“Heeeeeeeeyyy,” she slurred. She grabbed the glass and downed it. He wasn't as far gone as he originally thought, because a _'Yeah, she's drunk,'_ rang through his head right before she said, “Iii'm Te... Tes... Tessa.”


	6. Some nights I wish they'd just fall off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm kind of sorry and kind of not sorry for how short this chapter is...
> 
> Update: So my brain sort of hurts from all the writing I've done the past few days. I'll try to get one more chapter up before Sunday, but if not then it'll be after this next week because of GISHWHES <3

 The house was dark when the Impala pulled into the driveway. After the initial introductions, Dean and Tessa made their way to the car and drove back to the Wincheser's. Tessa stumbled out of the passenger side of the car, and before Dean closed his door she was throwing up in the lawn.

 

_At least she's far enough away from my baby,_ he thought sullenly.

 

After checking to make sure Tessa was alright, he half dragged her into the house, being as quiet as he could as to not wake Sammy and John.

 

When they walked into Deans' room, the door hadn't even closed before Tessa started undressing. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" _God. Are you even buzzed, Winchester?_

 

"Yeeeessss..." She giggled... She finished undressing before Dean, and laid down in the middle of his bed. After he undressed, he reached into his night stand drawer and pulled out a condom.

 

She began kissing his neck and chest, hands roaming over his back. She lifted her head up, and before he could stop her, she started kissing him.

 

_**Ew. Ew. Ew. Vomit mouth!**_

 

_Suck it up, Winchester! You told Sammy you were going to get laid, and God dammit, you are going to get laid._

 

So he sucked it up and kissed back. After a while he was able to forget about the taste of vomit. His body started reacting to hers; dick beginning to harden. Hips thrusting forward; friction excited his half hard cock. But, it wasn't enough. There was something missing, something that added more than enough friction.

 

He looked down into her eyes, a clear blue; they resembled water. He closed his eyes as a jolt of pleasure rushed through his body from his dick. But when his lids closed all the way, it wasn't the clear blue of the person beneath him. He saw darker blue; pure blue; that showed all the emotions that person was feeling without a second thought.

 

_**No! Stop that!**_

 

He opened his eyes again. Soft features on the face below stared back at him; her head thrown back in drunken ecstasy. He grabbed her hair; but instead of the silky smooth he expected, his hand gripped rough, sticky hairsprayed full strands.

 

He let go and grabbed the condom. He rolled it onto his dick, then asked, "Does it matter what hole, sweetheart?"

 

"God, no! Just put it in me!"

 

He grabbed the lube from his drawer, squirted some onto his hand, then rubbed his condom covered cock.

 

He didn't stretch her, didn't even lube her entrance, before shoving into her. She let out a quiet gasp before moaning.

 

He tried, he really did, but he couldn't do it.

 

"Turn around," he hissed in her ear as he pulled out.

 

She did as directed, and as soon as her hands were held out in front of her, he shoved his cock back in. In this position he was able to focus better.

 

The feel of the tight muscles around his now throbbing member. The soft skin underneath his hands, as he pounded harder and harder inside the tight ass. The warmth that engulfed him, sending shivers down his spine.

 

His hands shifted a little, now wrapped around hipbones that weren't quite sharp enough. In this position, with his eyes closed, he was able to imagine the right sharpness. If he moved his onto the stomach, he could imagine toned muscles instead of the softness that resided there.

 

He felt his climax building, as his thoughts made a one eighty. Instead of lust-blown blue eyes, he now saw those same eyes joyful with tears welling up behind them. A big house with a white picket fence. A soft breeze flowing lazily through soft black strands of hair. A ring on two sets of left ends.

 

When in his mind he heard a deep, gravely voice whisper, _'I love you,'_ he came hard, a silent “Cas!” escaping his lips.

 

He pulled out and leaned to the side before he collapsed in a sweaty lump.

 

A, ' _ **what the hell was that?',**_ the last thing that ran through his mind before everything went dark.

 


	7. But I still wake up, I still see your ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to get another chapter out before GISHWHES starts tomorrow. I'm apologizing ahead of time if the upcoming chapters tend to be shorter than before. I'm trying to write them in regards to content based on the chapter titles... Again. I love to know what you guys think.

Dean woke up late the next morning. Birds chirped outside his window as sunlight fought it's way through his blinds. A quick look at his alarm clock told him he had a half hour to get to the high school. He woke the girl, _Tessa,_ he reminded himself, by means of a hard shove against her shoulders.

 

In record time, Dean was dressed and out of the house within ten minutes. Dean couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry when he notified Tessa that she had to find her own way home. He made it to the school with five minutes to spare.

 

Practice that morning went easier than Dean thought it would. With Cas no longer around, Dean was able to put all thoughts of the blue eyed man out of his head, focusing his attention on drills and the new plays coach Armstrong introduced.

 

With the introduction of new plays, however, Dean was a half hour late to Bobby's garage.

 

He walked into the back entrance to see Bobby bent under the hood of the car that Dean was supposed to be working on that day. “Hey, Bobby. Sorry I'm late. Practice ran longer than usual today.”

 

Bobby grunted as he straightened up. He pointed his finger towards Dean as he stood up. “I need to talk to you about something.” Dean nodded his head, expecting to get chewed out for his tardiness. “I forgot that I had a meeting out of town on Monday. The shop will be closed, but I hate to take your hours away. I know how hard you boys have it.” Dean waited patiently for Bobby to continue. “Can you work a double shift tomorrow?”

 

Dean didn't realize he was holding his breath until he slowly let it out. “Sure, Bobby. You know I'd do anything to help you out.”

 

Bobby nodded. “I expect you to use Monday to your advantage. I noticed the other day that Sam's clothes seem to have shrunk an inch since summer began. If you need the extra cash, I can take some out of your next paycheck.” Dean nodded his head. “Good. Now get to work.”

 

As with practice, Dean was able to focus his attention on the problems with the vehicle, effectively putting his own to the back of his mind. The rest of the day went by smoothly.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It wasn't until Dean laid his head on his pillow later that night that he started thinking about his problem at hand.

 

_**What the fuck happened last night?** _

 

_You had sex? What's so confusing about that?_

 

_**That wasn't normal sex, though.** _

 

_No. No, it wasn't. So what are you going to do about it? You can't ignore the guy for the rest of your life._

 

Dean couldn't even hold a conversation with himself. The events of the past night was too confusing. Why would he imagine Cas, of all people, during sex?

 

_Why did you agree to take a girl home who had dark hair and blue eyes?_

 

_**Because she was drunk and willing.** _

 

_Is that the real reason, though?_

 

Dean didn't want to think about it. He got up and opted for a hot shower instead. The shower didn't help much.

 

As he stepped underneath the hot liquid, he closed his eyes and sighed. The hot water loosening his tight, over-worked muscles. But in his minds eye, he saw another body under the water with him.

 

A lean, pale figure stood in front of him. His blue eyes nearly black, as lust drove his pupils to dilate; a thin band a dark blue the only indication that there were any color to them. The water ran down the mans' toned body in rivulets, defining the shape of his muscles; muscles so much stronger than they appeared. Dark wet hair plastered to his forehead; pink lips begging to be kissed.

 

Dean took a step forward, intending to kiss those lips, but the man had a better idea. When Dean took his step forward, the other man backed up, a playful smirk on his face. Hands moved to Deans hips, as their owner steadied himself and dropped to his knees. With a sharp intake of breath, Dean realized the man's intentions seconds before those kissable lips wrapped themselves around Deans' dick. The hands on Deans' hips wound their way to his ass, squeezing them slightly, urging him to thrust forward.

 

Never had a mouth felt so good around Dean before. The man's tongue did things Dean never imagined possible. Deans' hands found their way to the mans' head, gripping the soft, wet strands of the amazing creature below him. Before he knew it, Dean was coming into the mans' mouth; a mouth that was working Dean through his orgasm as it swallowed each drop of semen being forced down it's throat. The man released Deans' spent cock with a soft 'pop' as he looked up; a small drop of come at the corner of smirking lips.

 

Back in reality, Dean came into his fist, a soft, “Cas,” whispered in the almost silent room; the only other sound being that of the water, still falling from over his head. Dean leaned his forehead against the wall of the shower, breaths coming short and heavily. Once his post-orgasmic bliss faded, he shakily straightened and rinsed himself off.

 

Ten minutes later, he was back in his room, wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants. He passed out almost as soon as he laid his head down. Using the last of his energy, he whispered into the dark room before passing out.

 

“What the hell is happening to me?” the last words out of his mouth, as he was pulled into dreamland.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean woke with a start. He looked over at his alarm clock and groaned. It was only eight in the morning, and even though he was working the double shift for Bobby that day, he still had another two hours before he had to be at the garage. He grabbed the closest available pillow and covered his head, willing himself back to sleep.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

An hour later, he woke up again, not feeling any more rested than he did the first time. He climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed.

 

After eating a bowl of cereal and washing his dishes, he wrote out a quick note.

 

_“Hey Sammy,_

 

_Bobby needs me to come in for a double shift today. He's giving me the day off tomorrow and some money from my next paycheck so that I can take you shopping for school stuff after practice._

 

_Make a list of things that we need to get tomorrow._

 

_See you when I get back._

 

_Love you, Jerk,_

 

_Dean”_

 

Satisfied with his note, he placed it on the dining room table, where Sam would be able to find it.

 

The ride to the garage was uneventful. Dean kept the windows rolled down and the music loud, drowning out thoughts he didn't want to hear. The first half of the day went by with no problems. After his lunch break, a familiar truck pulled up to the garage.

 

As Dean made his way to the vehicle, he saw Jo and Cas get out of the cab and make their way over to them.

 

“Hey, Jo. Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted.

 

“Are you avoiding me or something, Winchester? I mean, I know I'm too pretty for you, but,” she broke off. Dean sent her a glare.

 

“I've been busy,” was all he replied. “So what's up with your mom's truck?”

 

“It's been making a weird noise. Mom asked Bobby if we could bring it in to get it checked out.”

 

“Pull her in.”

 

The rest of the day was partially spent on fixing up the truck. It was a simple tune up; nothing too major. But now that Cas was around Dean, it became hard to focus. Cas and Jo helped Dean under the hood, handing him tools when needed. Dean and Cas' fingers would brush every now and then when a tool was passed between them. Each time this happened, Dean swallowed thickly as his stomach did little flips.

 

With a hour and a half left before Dean's shift finished, he took his last break. Jo and Cas took this time to use the bathroom and clean up. Dean sat in Bobby's office, staring out the window and sipping on his soda. With the quiet surrounding him, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

 

He was giving the Impala an oil change. As he laid on his back beneath his baby, draining the old oil, a figure walked up to the car. He grabbed Deans' leg, pulling him out from underneath the beast of a machine. The man crawled on top on him, straddling his hips. A left hand with a ring on it moved up to cup his cheek; thumb stroking in slow circles over his flesh.

 

“God, baby. You look so good when you work on your car,” he said. Dean looked up into bright blue eyes as the man above him started grinding his hips against Deans'.

 

A moan escaped his lips. His hands moved up to grip the dark, silky smooth hair, pulling the face down. Two sets of lips collided, hungrily. Tongues danced around each other as another moan escaped. Cas ground his hips harder against Deans'. He threw his head back as a gasped, “Cas,” sounded out around them.

 

He was snapped back to reality as the man in question walked into the office. A flush colored his face as he avoided the other mans' eyes. Before Cas could say anything, Jo entered behind him.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Bobby walked around the corner of the garage as the trio finished the last of the tune up.

 

“Ok, boy. You can go home now. I'll see you on Wednesday,” he said.

 

Dean cleared his tools and clocked out. With a wave good bye, Cas and Jo left in the truck. Before Dean walked to his baby, Bobby handed him the hundred dollars he promised. They nodded good bye before Dean left to go home.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was late when Dean got home that night. Exhausted, he made a quick dinner for Sam and himself. After they ate and put the food away, Dean took a quick shower, not allowing himself time to think. He just wanted to go to bed.

 

He was glad not to have any weird dreams that night. After waking up and going to football practice, he arrived back home to find Sam finishing up his summer reading packet.

 

“Hey, Sammy.” The younger brother's head snapped up.

 

“Hey, Dean.”

 

“I'm going to take a quick shower and then we can go.” Sam nodded and went back to work.

 

After his refreshing shower, they made their way to the outlet mall on the outskirts of town. After spending about a hour buying notebooks, pens, folders, and anything else Sammy needed, they walked into the clothes store.

 

“You know, Dean, you really should get some new clothes as well.”

 

“I'll think about it,” Dean said. And he did. It's been a few years since he last bought any clothes. His shirts were now getting to the point where they were tight enough to cut off circulation. And his jeans? Half of them he couldn't pull up.

 

Sam grabbed a few clothes to try sizes, and after a half hour he had four new outfits, new socks and underwear, and a new pair of shoes.

 

After he paid for Sams' clothes, he gave him some money to get something to eat. Sam went to the small pizza restaurant around the corner, leaving Dean alone to look through clothes. He grabbed a few pairs of dark blue jeans, some plain undershirts, and a few plaid over shirts. Dean loved his plaids almost as much as he loved his baby. His dad's old Marine leather jacket was high on the list as well; he only took it out of his closet during the school year.

 

Dean entered a dressing room. Having grabbed everything the same size, he took a look at his options; he just wanted to check if the sizes fit. He tried on a pair of blue jeans, a black undershirt, and a dark green plaid over shirt.

 

He walked out to the hallway of the dressing rooms and looked in the mirror. The jeans were the same shade as Cas' eyes, and the color coordination of his shirts, he realized, looked like the colors of a rain forest.

 

New images filled his head. In his minds eye, he saw a pair of slender arms wrap their way around his midsection. Cas' head came into view, resting his chin on Dean's shoulder, leaning his head against Deans' neck. A pair of blue eyes met his in the reflection and held his gaze. Moving his head, Cas leaned up and whispered in Deans' ear.

 

“I always knew you'd look good in my favorite colors. They bring out your eyes.” A chaste kiss to the cheek and then he evaporated into the air.

 

_**What the hell is going on with you Winchester?**_

 

He shook his head. Instead of worrying about the colors, he focused his attention on how everything fit him. The jeans were comfortably snug and formed to his hips. The shirts fit loosely as they hung to his chest and arms in all the right places.

 

_Looking good, Winchester._

 

He winked at his reflection and turned around to go back to his dressing room. However, when he turned, he was met with blue eyes. His eyes widen in shock as a breath of hot air hit his face.


	8. Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long it took to update with this, and even sorrier that it's so short. Next chapter will hopefully be longer. I'll give you three guesses who the cheerleader will be.
> 
> Also, this chapter royally kicked my butt. I had no idea how to write a sexual identity crisis, so this was the result. I honestly don't think I've read any stories that did it this way.
> 
> As always, I would love to know your opinions.

_It's been an hour. Are you seriously just going to lay there in bed in your self pity?_

 

_**What self pity?** _

 

_Dean, we need to talk about this._

 

_**There's nothing to talk about!** _

 

_Well, damn. You don't need to yell._

 

_**And you don't need to be a big bag of dicks.** _

 

_…_

 

_**…** _

 

_You do realize you just called yourself a big bag of dicks, right?_

 

Dean groaned, grabbed the closest pillow, and tried to suffocate himself.

 

So yeah, he and Sammy got home about an hour ago, and yeah, he's been locked in his room the whole time. What exactly was he supposed to do anyway? It wasn't that Dean didn't know what was going on with his mind and body; that would be putting it lightly. Dean Winchester didn't have a fucking clue what the hell was going on with his mind, body, emotions, and every other fucking thing in his life.

 

With the, for lack of a better word, hallucinations he's been having, he doesn't know what to do at the moment. It's no secret to him that Cas is gay. Hell, he was the first person to find out. So where the hell was all of these images coming from?

 

_**I missed Cas after spending a whole week with him. It's probably just hormones.**_ He tried to reason with himself.

 

_Yeah, because hormones is making you gay for your best male friend._

 

_**I'm not gay!** _

 

He removed the pillow from his face, breathed deeply, and sighed. _**What is wrong with me?**_ he asked himself.

 

_Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we?_

 

 _ **Not you again,**_ he grumbled to himself.

 

_Well, I am in your head, so you are kind of stuck with me._

 

_**Fine. Let's, as you put it, start at the beginning.** _

 

_Yay! Thought you'd never ask!_

 

He glared at his ceiling. Was it really coming down to this? Arguing with himself, thus using himself as a shrink?

 

_When did you first meet Mr. Castiel?_

 

Dean sighed before answering himself. _**At the party a few weeks ago. We were drunk and had sex.**_

 

He saw a mental image of two Deans in a white room. The one asking the questions was sitting in a huge leather chair, leg crossed with his ankle casually resting upon his knee, clipboard in hand. The one answering was laying flat on a matching couch, hands folded on his stomach, fingers crossed. The one asking the questions scribbled something down after the party comment, nodded his head and gave a little hum of approval.

 

That Dean looked up. _So that was a drunken mistake, corrected?_

 

_**Yes, it was a drunken mistake.** _

 

_And did you know at that time that Mr. Castiel was gay?_

 

The Dean on the couch sent a glare at the other Dean before replying, _**no.**_

 

The chair Dean nodded again before scribbling more nonsense on the clipboard.

 

_Next question. When did you find out that Mr. Castiel was gay?_

 

_**A couple of days later when we were on punishment for arguing in Aunt Ellen's house. And what's with the 'Mr. Castiel' stuff? Just call him Cas for Christ sakes!** _

 

Chair Dean just shook his head and tutted at couch Dean. He actually tutted! _It separates us as two different people, Dean. It wouldn't be professional if I called him Cas._

 

Dean rolled his eyes. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed vigorously. He couldn't believe he was actually having a therapy session in his head. With himself no less. It was friggin' giving him a migraine.

 

He sat up and made his way down to the kitchen for a glass of water. He barely heard Sam's voice on his way out of the room, but he ignored him all the same and made his way back to his bed. After laying back down, the two Dean's got back to work.

 

_Ok._ Chair Dean scribbled something down. _What was it like spending the week with Mr. Castiel?_

 

 _ **I don't know.**_ Couch Dean shrugged. _**We talked everything out the first day and became friends. He's cool.**_

 

_And at any point during that week did you have any feelings towards him in a non-platonic way?_

 

_**What? Of course not!** _

 

_So all of this happened after that week, correct?_

 

_**I suppose. But it's probably just hormones, nothing to worry about.** _

 

_So everything you've been imagining is all sexual, correct._

 

 _ **Yes.**_ A second later. _**No. Maybe. I don't know.**_

 

_Care to elaborate?_

 

_**Ok, so I might have imagine him with a ring. Might have. But that doesn't make sense!** _

 

 _Yeah, that's a bit weird._ Chair Dean scribbled again.

 

_Ok. Tell me about the last two people you had sexual intercourse with._

 

Couch Dean made a face before answering.

 

_**Well, there was Cas. And then after that there was this chick. Tara, Teresa... Tessa! That was her name!**_

 

 _Uh huh. What did she look like._ Another scribble.

 

_**Uh, dark short hair. Blue eyes. Pretty face I guess. Why?** _

 

_What color blue?_

 

_**I don't know! Clear I think. Like tap water or tears or something.** _

 

_So what does Mr. Castiel look like?_

 

_**Messy dark, almost black hair. Blue eyes like the ocean. Um... He has a straight nose.** _

 

_What was sex like with the two of them?_

 

_**Tessa was like really drunk.** _

 

_But wasn't Castiel as well?_

 

_**Yeah. But I was drunk also when me and Cas had sex.** _

 

_This is true. Was there anything different about having sex with Castiel?_

 

_**Other than the fact that Cas is a guy?** _

 

 _Yes. Other than the obvious fact that Castiel is a male._ Chair Dean rolled his eyes.

 

_**Well... I looked him in the eyes.**_

 

_Go on._

 

_**And I talked. I never talk.** _

 

_Anything else Dean?_

 

_**Yeah. It felt good. Really good. Amazing in fact.** _

 

_And then what happened?_

 

_**I freaked and bailed.** _

 

Chair Dean scribbled again before asking, _Now what about with Tessa?_

 

Couch Dean gulped. Loud.

 

_**I couldn't look her in her face. It just felt weird.**_

 

_Uh huh. Anything else?_

 

 _ **I imagined Cas. Which still freaks me out.**_ There was a paused. Chair Dean looked at couch Dean, urging him on with a look. _**Ok. And maybe I sort of saw Cas with a ring and we might have had a house together or something.**_

 

Chair Dean rolled his eyes, huffed, and then asked, _Anything else?_ He was getting annoyed with couch Dean.

 

_**Ok. Fine! Cas might have told me he loved me!**_

 

_So what do you think my verdict is, Dean?_

 

_**I'M NOT GAY!** _

 

_But you're not turned on by a pretty girl either._

 

“Shut up!” He didn't mean to yell it out loud. Dean sat up in bed. The sound of his scream reverberating off his walls.

 

Sam knocked lightly on his bedroom door. Dean glared at it before Sam opened it a little. “Dean, are you ok?” he asked.

 

With more effort than it should have, Dean plastered on a fake smile that didn't reach his eyes before answering. “Yeah, Sammy,” he said. “Just a headache, nothing important.”

 

Sam didn't look convinced, but nodded and closed the door anyway.

 

_**I've had enough of this. Leave me alone.**_

 

Dean rolled over and turned his radio on, twisting the volume dial so the music drifted out of the tiny speakers loud enough to drown out the voices in his head. The sounds of Metallica lulled him to sleep.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean woke up late the next morning. Having missed dinner the night before, his stomach growled angrily. He groggily got out of bed and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

As he was pouring milk into his bowls, one of the voices in his head spoke, which caused him to jump and spill milk on the counter and floor.

 

 _You know I'm still here,_ it said.

 

_**Yeah, and you're going to get me killed. You know dad hates messes.** _

 

He quickly wiped up the milk mess. Satisfied, he made his way to the dining room to eat. The voices left him alone until after he ate and cleaned up, much to his appreciation.

 

_So have you thought about the whole you being gay thing?_

 

_**I'm. Not. Gay.** _

 

Dean clenched his teeth. A quick look at the time told him he had to get ready for work.

 

It wasn't until he was almost to Bobby's garage that the voices started again.

 

_So if your not gay, what are you going to do about these images of Cas?_

 

He clenched the steering wheel, eyes stared hard out the road.

 

_**Fine. You want proof that I'm not gay?** _

 

_Essentially, yes._

 

_**Tomorrow. At football practice. I'll ask one of the cheerleaders out. There, not gay!** _

 

The other voice didn't reply. Either he didn't have anything to reply with or he was enjoying the thought that Dean would fail in his I'm-not-gay-so-leave-me-alone mission. He was seriously hoping for the former.


	9. What do I stand for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure what to say in regards to this chapter other than I hope you like it. Let me know what you think? It's definitely not one of the longest, but it's not one of the shortest. It's somewhere in between I think.

Dean looked at the watch on his wrist.

 

Seven o'clock sharp.

 

That was the time he and Tessa agreed to. It was the sole reason why Dean found himself standing on the front steps of the cheerleaders house, dressed in the fanciest clothes he own, which in hindsight wasn't exactly fancy; the darkest pair of jeans he owned, a black shirt that somehow didn't have a band logo on it, topped with his dad's old leather jacket. Ok, Dean didn't exactly know how to dress fancy, but he tried, didn't he?

 

He heard his blood pounding through his ears as he tried to pluck up the courage to knock on the door.

 

_**Come on, Winchester! You asked her out already! That was the hard part. Just raise your fist and knock!**_

 

He was half tempted to close his eyes. Just as he was lifting his fist to knock, the door opened to reveal the excited face of Tessa. Dressed in a simple powder blue spaghetti strap dress and matching heels, Tessa’s' face lit up when she saw Dean already on the doorstep.

 

"Hey," she greeted, smile growing wider. "I was just coming out to see if you were here. I was afraid you got lost or something."

 

"Nope. Was just about to knock actually." Dean gave her his charming smile. He took a moment to admire her outfit before speaking again. She did look rather pretty tonight. "Ready to go?" he asked.

 

"Sure, let me just grab my purse."

 

After she grabbed her necessary accessories, Dean led her back to the Impala, opening and closing the door for her like a gentleman.

 

The restaurant they were going to was one of those fancy, expensive types that you paid extreme prices for a small amount of food. It was his own fault, really, that they were going to such a place to begin with.

 

That morning, Dean arrived at the school a half hour early, hoping to catch the cheerleaders before they began their practices. Even though they had been practicing outside for the past week, Dean hadn't really paid much attention to them, having been lost in his own mind with images of Cas.

 

Lucky for him, the cheerleading team was outside milling about, still a few people short. Apparently, they can't start practice until the whole team got there, which meant they couldn't even start stretching; which really, was fine by Dean. It just meant that he didn't have to worry about interrupting them.

 

As casually as he could, he walked up to the group of females. He didn't have a clue which cheerleader to ask out, having fucked each one at least once while drunk at parties. It wasn't until he got closer that one caught his eye. Short dark hair and a petite body, Dean swore his heart stopped at the sight of Tessa. They didn't exactly depart on good terms.

 

Dean didn't know much about Tessa. After meeting her at that club outside of town, he figured that she went to a different school. He later found out that she was new and didn't want to give a bad impression on her soon-to-be classmates, so she went somewhere outside of town, not expecting to run into potential peers.

 

The good news for Dean was that his heart didn't stop. The bad news? Tessa looked up a second after Dean noticed her. Without missing a beat, she marched up to him and slapped him across the face. Hard. He didn't have to look towards the group of cheerleaders to know that each of the girls had a shock look on their face.

 

Tessa was pissed. That was a fact. A fact that Dean didn't blame her for.

 

Sheepishly, Dean turned his head back in her direction (the force of her slap having possibly caused him some minor whiplash). His hand subconsciously went to rub his neck, a nervous gesture of his. “Hey,” he greeted, and sent a shy and guilty smile her way.

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. He didn't exactly want to get chewed out at seven thirty in the morning. “Look, I know you're mad at me, I really do. Which is why I want to make it up to you.” He knew she didn't believe him, if the skeptical look on her face was anything to go by. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. Please?” he added as an afterthought.

 

She took a moment to answer. “No.”

 

_**Shit.**_

 

_Come on, Winchester. You have to do better than that._

 

“Please.” She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I'll take you to this really nice Italian restaurant in town. It's this fancy, five star restaurant from what I heard.”

 

Another moment of silence. “Fine.” She pulled out a pin from somewhere (Dean had no idea how females were able to pull random shit out of thin air, but they did) and wrote down her address on his hand. “Pick me up at seven at my house.” She turned around and walked away without letting him answer. “And don't be late!” she yelled over her shoulder.

 

That is how Dean found himself at a candlelit table for two, at the most expensive restaurant in town. How he was going to pay for this and keep him and Sam fed for the next two weeks was a mystery to him.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dinner went as smoothly as expected. They made small talk while waiting for their food and ate in a comfortable silence. Dean gave her generic background information; he had a brother and a dad, mom died when he was younger, Jo is his best friend, the usual stuff. In return, he learned that Tessa's dad was a doctor who's job was transferred to Lawrence, she had a mother who was a historian, and she was an only child.

 

After paying for an outrageously expensive dinner, Dean drove Tessa back home where they shared their first, non-intoxicated kiss and agreed to start dating.

 

However, with Dean's schedule being so busy, what with work and football practice, and the fact that he spend the majority of his remaining money on dinner that night, their time together was sparse. Dean tried to work as much overtime as possible on the days he didn't have football practice. Once again, John's abusive drinking meant that the small amount of food that they had stored in the house was quickly being eaten. A handful of times, Dean and Sam found their way to Ellen's for dinner, which Ellen was more than happy to have them.

 

It was during those visits at Ellen's that the voices in Dean's head would start arguing. _Just because you're 'dating' Tessa, it doesn't mean that you're not gay for Cas._ _ **How about you shut your trap?**_ _Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed._ _ **Whatever.**_ _You know you're gay for Cas, right?_ _ **I really wish you would stop saying that.**_ _If you weren't crushing big time on him, then why do you keep avoiding him?_ _ **I am not avoiding him.**_ _Then why does he look like a kicked puppy every time you refuse to look at him or talk to him?_

 

As it were, the first two Sundays after their dinner, Tessa came over for a movie date. Each time they got half way through the movie before they started making out, and each time they got interrupted. The first Sunday, Sam came into the living room, planning on asking Dean a question and ended up running out of the room, screaming something that distinctly sounded like brain bleach.

 

The second time Tessa came over, Dean lost track of time. They weren't kissing for more than five minutes before he noticed how late it actually was. That night Sam and Dean were eating at Ellen's, so Dean had to, unfortunately, drive Tessa home after only a half hour of seeing each other.

 

It was the Saturday after their two week mark when Tessa managed to stop Dean after football practice. By that time, Dean already got paid again and went grocery shopping. Earlier that week, Sam convinced Ellen to let him stay the night at her house, something about wanting to watch a new documentary on the history channel and not being able to get the channel at home. John was having a guys night out with Bobby that night, meaning that he would be passing out on Bobby's floor with half a bottle of whatever alcohol he was drinking. With the house to himself that night, Dean agreed to let Tessa come by.

 

They were on the couch again, the movie they picked at random on in the background, nothing more than noise. Tessa was straddling Deans hips, attacking his neck with light kisses and tiny nibbles, when the front door banged opened. Half jumping off from fright and half being pushed off by Dean, Tessa landed on the floor with a thump. Dean's head snapped to the front door, glare in place once he saw Jo and Cas walk through, bottles of alcohol cradled in their arms.

 

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Dean asked, voiced angrily. They were finally alone; Dean was finally going to get the voices to stop in his head, and here comes trouble in the form of a hot-headed blonde and the man who had been invading his dreams for the past month.

 

Jo carefully placed the bottles in her arms on the table before answering, waving Dean's question off with a wave of her hand. “Calm down, Dean-o. We're having a party!”

 

“Like hell you are! No parties! Parties lead to messes and messes lead to an angry dad. No parties!”

 

Jo just waved his comments off again. “Don't worry Dean, I will personally clean up any mess that happens. Besides, your dad won't even be home until late tomorrow anyway.”

 

She made her way to the stereo, turning it on and switching to one of those mixed music stations that play a bunch of things from the past ten years or so, volume being cranked up loud. Cas followed Jo's lead and placed his bottles on the table as well.

 

“So, apparently I have no say in the matter?”

 

Cas rolled his eyes in response. “You're not alone. She kidnapped me and dragged me here with her.”

 

Dean smirked. At least he wasn't the only one being tortured by Jo now. The current song on the radio came to an end and as the beginning of the Friends theme song began, Dean heard Jo call from the kitchen.

 

“Dude! Don't you guys any snack food here?”

 

“You should already know the answer to that, Jo!”

 

She came back from the kitchen with three shot glasses and an amused smile on her face. “Oh well. Just means everyone will be getting drunk faster.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes as the lyrics of the song filled the house. He stood up and made his way to the table as Jo poured the three of them a shot of which ever bottle was closest to her.

 

“To us!” she cried, lifting her shot in the air.

 

“To this song!” Dean said, as the lyrics 'someone I'll always laugh with, even at my worst, I'm best with you, Yeah!' rang through his ears.

 

“To friends.” came Cas' low gravely voice. Green eyes met blue, and for a moment Dean forgot that he was avoiding Cas. With a lazy smile on his face, Dean chugged back his shot, grimacing, then shrugged; he's tasted worst.

 

“Um, excuse me.”

 

Three heads turned towards the voice, and Dean all but forgot he was technically on a date with Tessa.

 

“Are you seriously just going to let them barge in here and interrupt us?”

 

“And who the hell are you?” Jo asked.

 

“I'm Tessa,” she said, sending a glare at Jo. “Dean's girlfriend.”

 

“Well hi, Tessa. I'm Jo, Dean's sister he tells everything important to,” she said with a sickly sweet smile. Out of the corner of Dean's eye he saw Cas smirk.

 

_**A smirk should not be that sexy.** _

 

_What was that, Winchester?_

 

_**Shut up.** _

 

He turned his attention back to reality with an internal shake of the head.

 

“Dean. Tell them to leave.”

 

“No.”

 

“I was speaking to Dean!”

 

“And I was speaking for Dean!”

 

Both girls shifted their glares to stare at Dean. He shook his head. “Sorry, Tess. When Jo has her mind set on something there's no changing it.”

 

She actually stomped her foot. “We were on a date,” she said, through clenched teeth.

 

Before Dean could reply, however, the first few party guests walked into the house and made it clear the conversation was over. For good measure, Dean sent an apologetic smile to Tessa.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The party was in full swing, though for how long Dean had no idea. What he did know was that he had a pretty good buzz and his memory was starting to get fuzzy.

 

Thank god for Jo, though. About an hour into the party, the stereo blared Michael Jackson back to back. Apparently, a few of the light-weights were also angry drunks. It was during the back to back playing of MJ that Dean and Jo saw first hand how angry they could get. About half way through 'Bad', two of them started arguing about something so trivial it wasn't even funny. And it turned even less hilarious when one of them got shoved into one of Mary's lamps, causing it to fall and shatter while 'I'm Bad, I'm Bad-Come On, You Know I'm Bad, I'm Bad-You Know It, You Know I'm Bad, I'm Bad-Come On, You Know' repeated annoyingly loud. Ironically enough, Jo finally managed to kick them out of the house while 'Just Beat It, Beat It' repeated just as annoyingly. Seriously, could music now and days get any lamer?

 

Of course the exception to the 'repeat the same annoying thing five times in a row' thing is when it comes to Aerosmith. You can't go wrong with a rock base in the background. It just so happens that Ash's crazy ass somehow managed to find random women clothing an hour later (which considering a good amount of the female partiers were drunk by then and stripping, it shouldn't have come as a surprise). He waltz around the first floor of house cross-dressed while Aerosmith belted out ' Dude, dude, dude, dude looks like a lady'. It was a rather comical five minutes or so.

 

Few songs caught Deans' attention that night, but when he did pay attention, he noticed a pattern. The dj on the radio was doing a constant back to back play-list. It was around that time that he started losing count of how much he was drinking.

 

Every time 'I'm going down in a blaze of glory. Take me now but know the truth. I'm going out in a blaze of glory. And Lord, I never drew first but I drew first blood. I'm no one's son, call me young gun' drifted through the house, Dean took a shot of whatever was closest, usually vodka or whiskey. Meaning, within an almost six minute song, Dean took three shots of various liquids.

 

If that wasn't bad enough, 'Wanted dead or alive' came on next. It was almost too much for Dean to bare. As soon as he heard the first strands of the song, he took a shot. And another. And another. After every shot, he would realize the song still played. And with every next shot, he tried to drown away the guilt. In his mind he was wanted, and preferably dead rather than alive. Why else would John take his frustrations out on Dean? Why, if it wasn't Deans' fault his mother was dead. Some nights Dean wished that he was dead, because he believed that he should be. During the beatings he would silently pray that it would be the last, that he wouldn't have to bare guilt much longer. But then they would stop, and Sam would be by his side (with Jo on occasions) to tend to his wounds, and he would remember why he had to survive. It was his fault Sam didn't have a mother, so it was his responsibility to care for Sam. To be brother, mother, and father because John drank away his life.

 

After a while, though, the party settled down a bit. He was lost in a sea of dizziness and lack of balance. If he tried to move by himself without the wall for support then he would fall, and hard. He tried and learned the hard way. Most of the people went home. Some fell asleep on the floor. Not many were still awake, yet the stereo still blared the music, sounding louder in the otherwise silent house.

 

Tessa was a needy drunk, something Dean was not happy learning. He hadn't been paying much attention to her throughout the night, and considering they were still 'technically' on a date, she did not agree with his actions. She found him leaning against the wall and dragged him up the stairs. By that time, even with the music loud as hell, Deans' fuzzy brain could only make out bits of the current song.

 

She shoved him into the bathroom. 'You give love a bad name'. He stumbled. 'A school boy's dream, you act so shy'. She forced her lips on his. He knew he was gone. Farther than the moon was to the Earth, yet through his hazy, he knew her lips didn't feel right. His stomach did flips as the nauseous feeling ripped through his body. Up his throat. He wasn't sure if it was the music muffled from the door or his own thoughts when Bon Jovi sung 'No one can save me', but he was sure that regardless, he was doomed to Tessa's wrath.

 

Somehow he got her off him in time to make it to the toilet before spewing the contents of his stomach. He thought he heard pounding on the door, but wasn't sure. The sound of his stomach liquids over powering his hearing. But he knew, without a doubt, that the person rubbing his back was not Tessa.

 

He didn't know how long he knelt in front of the toilet, but when he stopped ejecting liquid out of his mouth, he was more aware of his surroundings. He managed to lift his head enough to look at his savior. _**Cas.**_ A crooked smile passed his lips.

 

Cas somehow stood him up and directed him fully clothed into the tub. He swayed, having no control over his balance. Cas must have noticed, for a moment later he was in front of Dean, in nothing but an undershirt and his boxers. He reached behind Dean for the nozzle of the shower, and next moment Dean was drenched in cold water. Cas watched as Dean sobered up more as the seconds ticked by. The sound of the rushing water somehow blocking out sound from the rest of the house.

 

Dean looked into those too blue eyes and nodded. He knew the routine. You stand under cold water and nod when you're fully capable of not collapsing as soon as you step away from the wall.

 

Silently, Cas directed Dean to his room. He rummaged through Deans drawers, pulling out a pair of pajama pants, then stripped Dean of his soaked clothing. Dean was compliant and stayed silent. It all seemed a bit surreal to him. What did he do to deserve this mans' help? For the past two weeks he avoided his company, and when in his presence, ignored him to his face.

 

As Cas laid Dean gently on his bed, Deans' still somewhat foggy mind acted on his own accord.

 

“Stay,” he croaked out, voice rough from the constant drinking and throwing up. “Please.” Blue eyes connected with green.

 

He wasn't sure how his face looked, but he knew that he was pleading, and he knew that he was desperate. Whatever look was on his face, though, convinced Cas to nod. He turned back to Deans' dresser and pulled a pair of pajama pants out for himself. He quickly changed and climbed into the bed with Dean.

 

Dean rolled over onto Cas, his head on the mans' shoulder and arm draped across his stomach. He squeezed slightly, just long enough to make sure Cas was really there. Cas nuzzled his hair a little with his nose; one arm wrapped around Dean's waist, the other rubbing feather light circles in his back.

 

A combination of Cas' heartbeat, breaths, and the soft sounds of the stereo downstairs, playing 'Sweet child o' mine', lulled Dean into a peaceful sleep. The last thoughts to run through his head was between wondering if Jo would turn the music off before she passed out, and the safe feeling of being in Cas' arms once again; the feeling of home.

 

_She's got eyes of the bluest skies_  
As if they thought of rain  
I hate to look into those eyes  
And see an ounce of pain  
Her hair reminds me  
of a warm safe place  
Where as a child I'd hide  
And pray for the thunder  
And the rain  
To quietly pass me by  
  
Sweet child o' mine  
Sweet love of mine


	10. Most nights, I don't know anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter out. Going through a little bit of family issues and can't exactly get on the computer as often as I would like. But I'm not going to stop writing, it might just take longer to get the chapters out.
> 
> Also, I am sorry for how crappy the second half of this chapter is. I really wanted to get something out for you guys and my muse just really hated me today. Not to mention I've felt like I could pass out at any given moment since I first woke up. Please let me know what ya'll think! I love your reviews like crazy!

 Movement. That is what woke Dean up the next morning. A warm body slid under the sheets and laid partially on top of him. A head with soft, short hair rested on his shoulder; the hair tickled his nose with every exhalation of breath. An arm wrapped itself tightly around his waist and a leg wiggled its way between his own. Despite the warmth of the early September morning, the heat from the body contact was welcomed.

 

The intense bright orange of the sunlight streaming through his window agitated his closed eyes. His blood pounded through his veins; rushing through his body. His pounding headache grew more unbearable with each passing second. His body felt numb and heavy. The soft breaths of the body on top of him skirted across his bare chest.

 

His eyes fluttered opened in an attempt to adjust to the light. Without trying to move a lot, he looked around and noticed the pile of wet clothes on his floor from the night before, but had no recollection of how they got there. The head of his sleeping companion nuzzled his throat; their nose feather light and smooth against Deans' warm skin.

 

During the night they must have pushed the comforter off of them, for Dean noticed it bunched up at the end of the bed near their feet. With a sigh of relief, Deans' still waking mind noticed that he was wearing pajama pants.

 

_**At least I didn't have sex with who ever is laying next to me,**_ he thought rather bitterly.

 

His eyes widened with panic. _**Wait. Where's Tessa?**_ The memories of the night before flickered through his mind. Tessa, straddling his hips on the couch. Tessa being pushed to the ground as Cas and Jo came through the front door, arms laden with bottles of alcohol. The party. Ash being a drunken idiot, walking around in women clothes. The two light-weight drinkers who broke his mothers lamp. Tessa, drunkenly attacking his mouth in the bathroom. Cas, helping him throw up. Cas, standing under the cold water with him. Him asking Cas to stay with him, to sleep in the same bed as him.

 

And then it hit him. The soft hair under his nose. The warm nose still nuzzling his neck. Cas. He felt his face flush with this realization. How drunk was he last night?

 

Shifting his body slightly on the bed, Dean looked down at the still sleepy face of Cas. His sharp features were surprisingly soft in the early morning light. His pale lips were puffier than usual. The crinkled laugh lines around his eyes, nose, and lips smooth from the ultimate relaxation that only a peaceful night of sleep could bring. The light stubble along his jaw; softening it, making it seem slightly rounder, rather than its' usual sharpness.

 

_**I wonder what his stubble feels like.**_

 

With great difficulty, Dean raised a heavy hand, intending to brush his fingers lightly along Cas' jaw. The movement, however, shook Cas' body slightly. Hand hovered in midair, Deans' eyes jumped to Cas'; intense green stared into sleepy blue. A light smile graced Cas' face; the faint sunlight in the room like a halo on his dark crown. Cas looked absolutely angelic.

 

Hand still in the air, Dean swallowed hard and noticed for the first time how dry his mouth and throat was. He dropped his hand as he broke the staring contest, and found a glass of water and some aspirin on his nightstand. An amused smirk crossed his lips. The last time he was this hungover was after he and Cas had sex; Sam had been the one to take care of Dean. This time it was Cas.Cas, who has unknowingly plague Dean's dreams for the past month. Oh, the irony.

 

Cas turned his head and saw what Dean was staring at. Fighting back a yawn that threatened to escape, Cas sat up and stretched; back muscles tensed as his arms rose over his head. Dean tried not to stare, and failed. He unsuccessfully tried to gulp through the dryness in his throat. Cas grabbed the water and pain killers and handed them to Dean, who gratefully accepted. He sipped on the water, tossed the aspirin in his mouth, and threw his head back, willing the pounding to leave his skull.

 

“Thank you,” he said, as Cas grabbed the cup from his hands and replaced it on the nightstand.

 

“How are you feeling?” Cas asked, brow furrowed in concern.

 

“I feel like shit.” Cas chuckled. Dean glared. “What time is it?”

 

“It was almost ten thirty when I went downstairs, but that was about ten minutes ago.” Dean mindlessly nodded his head. “It's not pretty down there. It'll take a few hours to clean. But at least it's only Jo downstairs.” There was a pause. “Dean, we need to ta-”

 

Just then, the phone rang, cutting Cas' sentence off. Dean stumbled out of bed and raced down the hall in an attempt to reach the phone before it stopped. He grabbed it just before the fourth ring. “Hello?” he croaked out.

 

“Dean.” Deans' blood ran could as the voice of his father filtered through the receiver.

 

“Uh, h-hey dad.”

 

“Apparently it's not Bobby's job to remind his employees that the shop is closed for the holidays. Asshole kicked me off his couch and out of his house a few minutes ago. I can't find my keys, so make sure the door is unlocked. I'll be there in ten.”

 

_**shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshit SHIT!**_

 

“Yes, sir.” The phone went dead before the words left his mouth. He rushed back to his room, where he found Cas spread out on his bed in a pair of his pajama bottoms. He took a second to appreciate the view before walking over to his dresser.

 

Rummaging through the dresser, he pulled out clothes at random and threw them at Cas. “Get dressed, fast. You got to go. We'll talk later.” He walked to his door, but at the lack of noise behind him he turned to find Cas looking at him like a lost puppy. He pinched the bridge of his nose; it was too early for this and he still had a raging headache. “Cas, now!”

 

He slammed the door as he ran downstairs to find Jo stirring on the couch. He walked, well, more like stomped, his way over to her. “Jo. Get up and get Cas out of here now,” he hissed. Just like Cas, she was confused. “Jo. My dad will be here any minute. You both have to get out _now_.” Her jaw dropped at his words. He knew what was going through her mind, because the same thing has been on repeat in his own since the phone call. Oh shit.

 

It was pure dumb luck that all Jo had to do was put her shoes on. Cas came down the stairs a moment later, dressed in the clothes Dean threw at him. He literally pushed them out the door and told them to get as far away as possible. Jo gave him a quick hug. “I know the drill. Half hour come back. Do you think I'll need to bring Cas with me?” she whispered. Dean shook his head as they separated. He watched them climb into the car and turn the corner before walking back into the house. Cas wasn't lying. It was bad. Even if Dean attempted to pick up some of the trash before the inevitable happened, it wouldn't make much of a difference. Instead, he made his way back to his room and waited. His leg bounced nervously as he held back the moisture in his eyes. Less than five minutes later the front door slammed. In the safety of his room, Dean allowed himself to jump.

 

How could he be so stupid as to allow himself to get talked into throwing a party? He won't be able to explain this without putting the blame on Jo. Even if he did put the blame on Jo, it wouldn't lessen his punishment. It'll just get Jo in trouble as well.

 

He held his breath and waited for his dad to take in his surroundings. The yell that followed moments later shook the house, as well as the stomping footsteps coming up the stairs. With a last clench of his fists and jaw, and an exhale of breath that temporarily got caught in his throat, Dean stood from his bed on shaky knees. He was in big trouble this time.

 

The bedroom door slammed open so hard it bounced off the wall. Dean felt his whole body shake as John raised his fist. Normally John avoided the face, especially so close to the beginning of school. However, when his anger was this far out of being considered 'in check', all reasoning for where his fists landed went out the window. His fist made contact with Deans' jaw, sending Dean stumbling backwards onto his bed. The next few landed in the fleshy part of Deans' stomach. After a few minutes, Dean lost count of both hits and time.

 

With a final blow to Deans' ribs, John left the room. A minute later the front door slammed and Johns' truck squealed out of the driveway. Dean laid on his bed, unable to move. His breaths came out in short, painful pants. His hangover headache pounded harder against his skull. He wasn't sure if he passed out or not, but Jo entered his room much later than he expected; later than usual. He was about to ask her what took her so long, though it would have been with much difficulty, if it weren't for the fact Cas followed in the room behind her.

 

“What... the... hell... Jo?”

 

Cas took one look at him before exiting the room. Jo helped Dean sit up and move up the bed to lean against the headboard. Before she got a word out, Cas came back in with more pain medicine. He handed the still half full glass of water to Dean before moving to Deans' dresser. Having remembered the locations of the shirts from the night before, Cas pulled out a t-shirt and accompanied Jo in getting Deans' stiff arms through the sleeves.

 

He looked at Cas for only a moment before sending a glare towards Jo. “I told you not to bring him,” he seethed.

 

“I choose to come.” “He wouldn't let me leave without coming also.” they said at the same time.

 

“Besides,” Cas said, “at least this way you have an extra set of hands to help clean up.”

 

Dean took a deep breath and scrunched up his eyes against the pain. With a sigh, he looked back at Jo. “What did you tell him?”

 

“I'm right here Dean.”

 

“Fine.” He snapped his eyes to Cas'. He was surprised not to find pity or judgment in the blue orbs. Instead, Cas looked murderous, similar to how he did that day all those weeks ago at the football practice, yet there were unmistakable tears in his eyesd. “What do you know?”

 

“I don't know any facts, Dean. I can easily put two and two together, but it is not my place pry in your home life,” he said, voice deeper than usual. He turned his attention to Jo. “I will be downstairs cleaning up.” He stood up and walked to the door before turning back to Dean. “You should get some rest.” Then he was gone.

 

“I'm so sorry, Dean!” Jo blinked back tears.

 

The reason Dean and Jo got along so well, outside of growing up with each other that is, is by their unspoken agreement not to have chick-flick moments and that you don't cry, because crying is a sign of weakness. Jo never cried. “I didn't even think about the fact that this weekend was Labor day weekend. Even if I did, I never expected your dad to be coming by. I'm really sorry.”

 

He tried to wave it off, but ended up in more pain than before. “It's fine. He doesn't know you had anything to do with it.”

 

“Cas is right. You should get some rest. We'll take care of cleaning up downstairs for now.” He nodded. She helped him lay flat on the bed before she left the room. He only had to close his eyes once before darkness consumed him.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was later in the day when Dean regained consciousness. The sound of the vacuum drifted through his opened door. He was confused for a moment, before the pain in his stomach reminded him. Oh yeah. He had a party and then got the stuffing beaten out of him by his dad. His jaw was killing him and he was certain, if he looked in a mirror, there would be a bruise. It took a few minutes of struggling, but he finally managed to get out of bed. He had to remind himself how to breath through the pain. _Slow and easy. In and out. Not too fast. Don't pass out._ Once he was certain his legs were strong enough to handle his weight, he walked downstairs.

 

The smell of bacon attacked his nose once he made it down the steps. Jo spotted him from the middle of the living room where she was vacuuming and rushed over to him. From behind her he spotted his mothers lamp, the one that was broken the night before. Overwhelmed with affection for his two friends, tears sprang to his eyes. 

 

“You... You fixed it.” It wasn't a question, but Jo nodded all the same. He had to blink back the tears. They don't cry. That was their rule. Rules, however, can be broken from time to time. So if a tear slid down Deans' cheek, neither of them mentioned it. Jo directed Dean into the dining room and helped him into a chair. She left for a moment before coming back with two plates in her hands; Cas trailed in behind her with his own plate. They ate in silence, all unsure of what to say. Dean knew without a doubt that Jo would never tell Cas what had happened after they left, but he also knew that Cas wanted to know. Every few minutes, Dean would sneak a glance in Cas' direction. Cas glared at his plate, stabbing the food with more force than necessary. The few times Dean actually saw his face, though, he didn't what to feel. He still had that murderous look, but at the same time it almost looked like he was fighting off his own tears. _**I don't deserve him,**_ kept playing on repeat in his mind.

 

When they all finally finished eating, Jo took their plates back to the kitchen. The silence turned uncomfortable, suffocating even. Dean fidgeted in his seat, avoiding Cas' eyes. Cas broke the silence after a few minutes.

 

“Dean.”

 

He looked up and met those blue eyes for the first time in hours.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

He shrugged. “I'm fine. The pain isn't that bad. Nothing I can't handle.”

 

Cas nodded, adverting his gaze. Jo came back in not long afterwords.

 

“I just got off the phone with my mom. She's going to bring Sam home in a few hours. We should probably get going. We still have to get some stuff from the store for tomorrow's bbq.” Dean nodded, not sure what to say.

 

_Well. Mark this down on your most awkward list._

 

_**What the hell am I supposed to say?** _

 

He didn't get to answer himself. Cas stood up, still dressed in Deans' clothes, as the door bell rang.

 

“I'll get it,” he said. When he came back into the room, Tessa was behind him.

 

Dean was shocked to find that she didn't look angry. Jo came up to him and gave him a quick hug, apologizing once again about the party. They left.

 

When the front door closed, Tessa finally took a seat across from him. “Dean,” she began. He met her eyes. They weren't angry, but they weren't sad either. “You're a really nice guy,” she continued, “but I just don't think this is going to work out. We don't connect in that way.”

 

He took a deep breath and tried to hide the wince when he felt pain. _**Right. Bruised stomach.**_ He knew she was right. There wasn't a spark, there never was. But he also didn't know what to say. He couldn't exactly tell her that she was a test to prove to himself that he wasn't gay. So he just nodded.

 

“We can still be friends, though. You're the first person from school that I met. I don't want this to be a negative thing. I want something positive to come out of this.” She took a moment the find the right words before continuing. “Look, we can put this behind us and just start over. If you ever need someone to talk to, about anything, you can come to me, ok?” She gave him a small smile.

 

_**Ok. So maybe she's right. This doesn't have to be a bad thing, right? I can be friends with a girl that I don't want to get in her pants. Just look at Jo!**_

 

He nodded. “Ok.” He walked her to the door. He was still in some pain, but the nap he took earlier really did help. Besides, he wasn't really lying to Cas. He's used to the pain, even if this was a little more than usual.

 

At the door, Tessa turned around and gave him a hug. “Don't forget about me, tiger.”

 

“I won't, promise.”

 

After she left, Dean managed to make it back to his bedroom. His dad was still gone, which he counted as a plus. Jo and Cas worked together while he was passed out to make the house sparkling. Well, maybe not sparkling, per say, but a lot cleaner than it normally is. Ellen was bringing Sam home in a little bit. This all left Dean, alone in the house, with nothing to preoccupied his time. So he did the only thing he could do. He sprawled out on his bed, and was succumbed in his thoughts.

 

_So let's talk about how your horrible plan ended._

 

The two Deans were back, much to Deans' annoyance.

 

_**There's nothing to talk about.**_

 

_I beg to differ._

 

Couch Dean glared at chair Dean.

 

_**Fine! You were right! You win! Are you happy now?**_

 

_Not really. You haven't exactly said those magic words that I'm looking for._

 

Couch Dean sighed, trying his best to hold back the urge to strangle chair Dean.

 

_**I have feelings for Cas and Tessa didn't stop them. Are we done here?**_

 

_Nope. What are you going to do about your feelings?_

 

_**What is there to do? Cas isn't stupid! He said so himself. He put two and two together and came to the conclusion that my dad beats the shit out of me! He wouldn't want to be with me! I don't even want to be with me! He deserves better!** _

 

_And what about you, Dean? Don't you deserve better?_

 

_**NO! I deserve to be dead!** _

 

_The fire wasn't your fault, Dean! You were four!_

 

_**It was my fault regardless of my age at the time! If Cas found out he wouldn't want to date me, let alone even be in the same room as me!** _

 

_You don't know that! Didn't you see the look on his face earlier? He wants you to at least be honest with him! Shouldn't that count for something?_

 

_**Why didn't my dad just kill me today?** _

 

_Because you deserve to be happy!_

 

_**I deserve to be dead!** _

 

_You deserve to be saved!_

 

Dean cut the voices off then. Even in his mind he doesn't know what to think. With a heavy sigh, he switched on his alarm clock and cranked it up high. The voices won't help anything right now. He promised Cas that morning that they would talk. When, he wasn't sure, but he needed to talk to Cas. With that being the only positive thing he knew in mind, he curled into a ball and let Black Sabbath sing him to sleep.


	11. Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the newest chapter. I hope you like it. I decided to stay out of Deans' mind as much as possible in this chapter. I feel like if I do the therapy sessions with himself then it makes it harder to get out of his mind. Does that make any sense? Anyway, I'm sure ya'll can figure out what the next chapter will be. Let me know what ya'll think! :)

 He was running. Running straight. Never looking back. Never stopping. He lost track of time. It could have been hours, days, even months, but he didn't know. Hell, he didn't even know why he was running. Was something chasing him? Was it still chasing him? He could rule out the possibility that he was just running for the hell of it, for he didn't have shoes on, didn't even have socks. He wore only a t-shirt and boxers; the same clothes he fell asleep in. So yes, something was chasing him. It caused him to wake up and run for his life.

 

The gravel beneath his feet was rough, cutting his tender skin with every forward thrust. Blood spilled from the cuts, leaving behind red foot prints on the tiny gray rocks. His lungs cried out for air, desperate for relief, begging for him to stop. Every inhalation of breath caused the fire to burn hotter. Breaths quick, short and sweet and not giving him nearly enough oxygen to survive.

 

So he woke up and ran for his life? But surely, the blood lost and lack of oxygen would have killed him by now. Sudden realization hit and his aching feet finally came to a halt. He was dreaming. You couldn't die in a dream.

 

Trying to calm his breathing, he took slow, deep breaths and turned, ready to face his predator. He expected it to be a wild animal, something huge that would cause him to run for so long. However, he was met with the angry face of his father. The scent of alcohol rolled off him in waves.

 

With a raised fist, John made contact with his face. He pulled back; another punch. And another. The force of John's blows were coming faster and stronger. Each time his fist made contact with Dean's stomach his muscles tensed, reminding him yet again of the fuck up mistake he made, for surly this was punishment for the party.

 

Thump. Another blow aimed at his face. Behind the strength of the punch, Dean felt softness as knuckles made contact with jaw. Another punch to the gut, yet it was no longer Deans' stomach. He looked down and yeah, it looked like his stomach. John's fist connected to his flesh, the force of it caused a ripple affect as if it were water.

 

_**What the hell?** _

 

_Dude, dream._

 

'Dude, wake up!'

 

Thump; another soft blow

 

_**When the hell did Sam get in my head?**_

 

_Hello? Dreaming!_

 

Thump.

 

“Wake up, jerk!”

 

Deans' eyes snapped opened with an almost audible pop. His breaths were coming in short rasps. A cold sweat covered his body. Teeth clenched. Hands fisted his sheets. Sam hit Dean in the face with the pillow again.

 

“Dean. It's almost ten. Get up so we can get to Ellens'!” Sam stomped out the room, careful not to slam the door though. No matter how pissed or annoyed Sam was, he was still a gentleman.

 

_**I don't think he's ever slammed a door in his life,**_ Dean mused.

 

Sam was right, though. If it was really almost ten, then Dean had to hurry, and fast. He stretched his tensed muscles, trying and failing to demand them to relax. He hadn't had a dream that bad in years, if you don't count the recurring nightmare of his mothers death that is. He managed to drag himself out of bed in under two minutes, which would be quite an achievement considering the bruises that still littered his torso, had he not been accustomed to the pain. A quick glance at his alarm clock gave him all the information he needed; quarter to ten meant no time for a shower. Lifting an arm, he barely had to sniff his armpit before pulling back. He really needed that shower, but no shower was worth the wrath of Ellen.

 

With no time for a much needed shower, he quickly got dressed and sprayed himself down with his deodorant, before heading down to the living room where he found Sam watching the news. Dean faintly heard something about an ex-military officer being kicked out for some reason before Sam turned the television off. They slid into the Impala and made their way to the Harvelle household.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was tradition. For as long as Dean could remember, before his mother died as a matter of fact, Labor day was spent bbqing at Ellens'. Unlike most families that would bbq on Sunday, the Winchesters', Harvelles', and Bobby would have their bbq on Monday. Ellen and Bobby always felt that if the government had a three day weekend, then they had every right to have one as well. Before her untimely death, Ellen would give Mary extra shifts in preparation of the holiday, in which the Roadhouse owner would close the bar down for the weekend. Similarity, Bobby would do the same with John. The only exception would be if they were jam packed and needed to have the garage opened the Saturday before. With schedules never being an issue, the adults would enjoy their weekend off and celebrate the holiday on the day of the week it fell.

 

The tradition never changed once the children started school. If anything, they added to the tradition. Since school started two days after the holiday, the parents decided to reward their kids by letting them have a sleepover at Ellens'. They never questioned what went on during that last night of the summer. For instance, neither John nor Ellen knew that it was during the sleepover before Deans' eighth grade year that Dean and Jo shared their first kiss.

 

Once Dean, Jo, and later Sam, became old enough to help in the kitchen, their responsibility grew, which resulted in a slight shift of the tradition. In order to get all the food prepared in time, even with the new pairs of extra hands, Ellen decided on a time for the Winchesters to arrive by. You guessed it; ten o'clock in the morning. So what happens when Dean gets to the house late, even if only by five minutes? He has extra work to do. More cutting, more mixing, and more carrying, which in return means more aggravation on his bruised abdomen.

 

Each year was the same. The help with the food, then later in the night the sleepover. So why was it that five minutes from the house Deans' palms randomly started to sweat?

 

_It's because Cas is there this year, dumbass._

 

There was no denying it. With the exception of the night of the party, Dean hasn't slept next to Cas in weeks, and he missed. God did he miss it. Waking up to Cas' face yesterday morning was like waking up to an angel. He looked perfect.

 

Dean pulled up to the front of the house, palms still sweating like crazy, to discover a yellow convertible in his usual spot. Dean chanced a glance at his brother expecting to see similarly confused face, only to become even more confused by the excited look that graced the youngest Winchesters' features.

 

He opened his mouth to question Sam on his sanity, when he was abruptly cut off by a voice he hadn't expect to hear. “Dean-o! And Samsquatch!” In front of the Impala was a short man with semi long golden brown hair and a lollipop stick hanging loosely in his mouth.

 

Sam rushed out of the passenger seat and attacked Gabriel with a giant bear hug, almost toppling the both of them to the ground. Dean was less enthusiastic about the appearance of the older Milton brother, but pleased all the same. Of the little interaction the two had the night Cas moved in, he found Gabe annoying in an almost endearing way.

 

Once Sam released the shorter man from his death hold, Dean raised his hand, expecting just a handshake. He was caught off guard when the sugar addict pulled him into a half hug.

 

“Gabe, what are you doing here?” Sam asked excitedly.

 

“School's on break for the holiday and Aunt Ellen invited us for the bbq. Anna is here too...” he looked around as if searching for the red-head, “...somewhere.”

 

This caused a chuckle from the three of them. Anna was most likely hanging out with Jo, seeing as they were the only two females other than Ellen in the household. A quick look at his watch had Dean cursing at himself and rushing into the kitchen. Ellen spotted him as we walked in panting.

 

“About damn time, boy!” He looked down in shame. Pointing the wooden spoon in her hand threateningly in Deans' general direction, she went back to the potato salad she was currently stirring. “You're lucky Anna and Gabe are here to help this year,” she said. After she finished the final stirs of the salad, she handed Dean a tray of various parts of chicken and instructed him to take it outside to the grill, warning him not to come back in unless otherwise asked, for he'll only be in the way.

 

Once outside, Dean located his dad and Bobby at the grill; Bobby sipped on a soda, his dad a beer.

 

_**Let the fun begin,**_ Dean thought bitterly.

 

He dropped the tray off on the picnic table closest to the two elder men before ditching. He hadn't seen his father since the beating the day before and wasn't afraid to admit, to himself at least, that he was avoiding his father. After that dream he had the night before, he was worried that he was still a glowing target at the moment.

 

Sam and Gabe were on the other side of the backyard chatting animatedly while Cas stood to the side, occasionally nodding his head when appropriate. Dean walked up to them and just caught the tail end of Sams' question. “...staying the night as well?”

 

Cas noticed Dean at the moment and their eyes connected, drowning out the rest of the world. Bright blue eyes filled with questions Dean didn't have answers to yet. Gabe noticed his brothers' shift in attention and turned slightly, noticing Deans' presence to his left for the first time.

 

“Dean-o! Not having too much trouble with Aunt Ellen, now are you?”

 

“Nope. For once I was instructed out of the kitchen.” Que in Deans' cheeky grin. “So, what are we talking about?”

 

“I was just asking Gabe if he and Anna were staying the night.”

 

“No can do kiddo. Classes start back up tomorrow. We're just here for the free food.” There was something about Gabe that just relaxed a person.

 

It wasn't until Dean felt a tap on his shoulder that he realized Cas was by his side. He stepped back a bit, just enough so that he could whisper to Cas without fear of being overheard. “Look, Cas. I know I said we would talk, and I swear we will, but it has to wait until tonight.” Cas nodded and the four of them fell into easy conversation.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was just after one in the afternoon. The burgers, hotdogs, and chicken were finished, already placed in the middle of the two picnic tables. Ellen, Jo, Anna, Cas, Dean, Sam, and Gabe were all rushing to get the rest off the food, plates, and plasticware outside. John was nursing his fourth beer in the past two hours, cheeks already taking on a rosy hue. With the table finally set, everyone sat down and dug in. Everything was going surprisingly well, for the first ten minutes at least.

 

“So Bobby,” John began, slurring just a bit. Dean and Sam had lost count on how many beers their father had already drank. “Did you hear about that military officer that got kicked out? It was all over the news the past few days.”

 

“I caught bits and pieces. You know I'm not one for keeping up with the news.”

 

“Well,” hiccup, “Apparently the dumb fuck ratted himself out as a fag!” He downed the rest of his bottle. Opening another one, he said, “Seriously, why do queers think they have a place in the military?”

 

Not even Ellens' glare was able to cut through the tension that ensued at this point. Leave it to John to bring up a touchy subject such as this. Gabe and Anna looked absolutely murderous. Cas adverted his eyes, not chancing a glance in Deans' direction.

 

Sam, brave little Sammy, was the first to speak. “Dad. What does being gay have to do with being able to serve?”

 

With the look on Johns' face, one would think that someone just upchucked on his shoes. “What does if have to do with the military? Sam, queers are only good for doing their nails dressing in woman clothes. They have no place in the military.”

 

And bless Sams' little heart. “What about the women though? They serve! Are you saying that women can't serve either?”

 

“That's different.”

 

“How so?” came the angry, gravely voice of Castiel. At the sound of Cas' voice, Deans' eyes shot forward, attempting to catch the blue orbs. However, Cas was glaring challengingly at John.

 

“Have you seen Ellen and Jo?” He took a chug of his beer. “Women get scary when they get mad, boy.”

 

“So a woman is allowed to serve, but a gay man can't? Where is the justice in that?”

 

John quirked his eyebrow. “What's it to you boy?” he asked. A sneer graced his lips as he asked, “you a little fag?”

 

“No. Cas isn't gay,” Dean hurried in, effectively cut Cas off before he could out himself to John. This earned him half curious and half glaring eyes.

 

“ _Fine,_ ” John spat. He took another chug of beer. “Prove it. If you're not a queer then you'd have no problem telling a joke.”

 

A contemplating look crossed Cas' face. Dean wondered if he could really say a joke that makes fun of himself and not cringe. Then Cas' eyes got mischievous. “Ok,” he said. He waited as John finished yet another beer. “I know a gay person that sounds like an owl.”

 

“Who?”

 

At that moment, if there was any doubt in Deans' mind that he didn't have a crush on Cas, it was crushed. Why? Because John. Stupid, alcoholic, abusive, homophobic bastard John, didn't realize what he had done until it was too late.

 

Sam and Gabe had tears in their eyes, Jo and Anna were pounding their fists on the table, Bobby was full on laughing his ass off, and Ellen was trying so hard not to laugh by covering her mouth with her hand. Cas just sat there, smugly smirking. Dean was laughing on the inside. Johns' face was dark red, his fists curled in anger and he looked like he was about to punch someone. Dean schooled his expression. One look at his father and he knew. If his lip so much as twitched he was in trouble. He could feel the tears try to form, but any emotion, any at all, and he was due for another beating. John angrily stood up and left. His truck squealing out the block. Dean turned his gaze to Cas' too blue eyes and let his eyes do all the talking. Three words said it all. _That was brilliant._

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Holiday traditions only cover a certain amount of the day. After everyone finished eating, the grown-ups and teenagers would go their separate ways and do whatever they wanted until nightfall, which is when all the teenagers had to be back for their yearly sleepover. Gabe and Anna left not long after everyone cleaned up. They wished the three high schoolers and Sam good luck, gave Cas a hug, and were on their merry way.

 

Jo and Sam would always go upstairs at this point in the day while Dean would go out with his teammates and have a beer or two to celebrate the end up summer. This year, Cas went upstairs with Jo and Sam. Like any other year, Dean left. However, he was breaking his own tradition.

 

Behind the wheel of his baby, Dean let himself do a dangerous thing. He let his mind think. On the one hand, he was so damn proud of Sam and Cas for standing up to John at the picnic table. This pride he felt proved to him that Sam was growing up, becoming his own person. His feelings toward Cas only intensified.

 

On the hand, however, it was fucking with Deans' head. He knew without a doubt that John wouldn't approve of these feelings he was having towards the blue eyed man. He was positive, that based on everyone's acceptance of Cas that they wouldn't have a problem with Dean being gay, bi, whatever it was that he was now. But to know that his birth parent, the one who was supposed to be there for him no matter what, was against him on this without knowing it, it caused a pain in Deans' heart that no beating could compare to.

 

He couldn't help but wonder, which side would Mary have been on? Would she have stood by her husband no matter what, or would his outlook on the situation be different if only she wasn't dead?

 

He didn't realize where his body was leading the car until he pulled through those iron gates. He knew this place almost as well as he did Ellen's house and Bobby's garage. To the far right was the big oak tree that him and Sam carved their initials in during a visit five years ago. In the middle of the various sized stones stood that angel statue that always gave him the creeps no matter how old he got. And to the left, a willow tree. Beautiful in it's own depressing way, with it's branches and leaves drooping as if in mourning of the wife and mother who died too young.

 

His legs had a mind of their own. Before his mind caught up to what was happening, he was kneeling in front of Mary Winchesters' grave stone. His hand reached up of it's own accord, fingertips lightly brushing against the surface of the smooth granite. The porcelain angel that use to watch over him as an infant still stood next to the stone. It's been ten years now. Ten years since his six year old self brought this last piece of his mother to her grave. Every time he visits, he'll hold the angel tight in his hand and ask the angels to look out for his mom. His mother, who is dead because of him.

 

This was no ordinary visit, though. There were set dates that Dean always visited; January 24th (his birthday), May 2nd (Sammy's birthday), November 2nd (her death day), Thanksgiving, December 5th (her birthday), and Christmas. Dean tried to stay within these set days, for if he visited outside of them, something was wrong. So wrong that he had to turn to his dead mother.

 

“Hey, Mom.” He had to stop. Clear his throat. “I know I usually don't visit on random days... but I need you, Mom. I need you so much right now. Dad,” he swallowed thickly and blinked back tears, “Dad doesn't understand, Mom.” He forced out a laugh. “Who am I kidding? Dad never understands.” He paused, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts right. “I'm changing, Mom.” He blinked rapidly, but a tear managed to escape. “I don't know what wrong with me.” His hands started shaking. “I have a new friend. His name is Cas.” The tears flowed freely down his cheeks. “You would have loved him, Mom. He has these eyes. They're so blue,” he said in wonder. “How can someones' eyes be that blue, Mom?” He choked out a laugh. “I've never even looked at a guy twice, ya know? And then this blue eyed stranger stumbles through a door at a party and I'm different.” The tears were flowing faster, choking his words, making it hard for him to speak, but he had to get this out. If there was one person in the world he could trust to keep this a secret, it was his mother, dead or alive. “What do I do, Mom? I can't get him out of my head. I've tried.” When did his forehead lean against the gravestone? “Can you give me a sign?”

 

“Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better...”

 

Deans' head rose slowly, looking for the source of the music.

 

“Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better...”

 

His head turned left and right, desperately looking for the source.

 

“Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her...”

 

He looked behind him and saw it.

 

“The minute you let her under yourskin. Then you begin to make it better...”

 

An ugly green volkswagen was driving down the street adjacent to the cemetery, blaring his old lullaby. Dean doesn't believe in coincidences. What could it be if not his mother telling him, 'yes, it's ok baby. You're not a freak. It's ok.'?

 

The corners of his lips twitched upwards slowly until there was a full blown smile gracing his features. He turned back to the gravestone. His hand grabbed the angel and held it tight to his chest. His head dropped backwards as fresh tears slid down his face. “Thanks, Mom.”


	12. This is it, boys, this is war, what are we waiting for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long this took. Yes. I know I'm evil. I am not sorry though. ;)

 Dean was ninety-five percent certain that the random playing of 'Hey Jude' was a sign from his mom, telling him to go after Cas and that she didn't love him any less. The other five percent was still trying to tell him that it was just a coincidence. Dean didn't believe in coincidences, but they happened, didn't they?

 

It was the five percent of uncertainty that had him shaking like a kitten away from it's mother by the time that he pulled into the Harvelles' driveway.

 

When Dean left the cemetery, he was relieved and felt like he could take on the world. But the five percent started whispering in the back of his head. Every minute closer to the house, closer to Cas, brought more fear and dread. What if it wasn't a message from his mom? And even if it were, she wasn't there to protect him if John found out. Every thought of John sent a shiver down his back. Then there was the man in question. Cas. What if he didn't feel the same way? Sure, he was gay, but that didn't mean he would want to sleep with any man that was willing. Did Cas know? He was the one who said that they needed to talk after all. What if he knew and wanted to let Dean down gently away from prying eyes?

 

Sitting in the Impala, Dean tried to calm himself down. He was overreacting. After all, he didn't even know what Cas actually wanted to talk about. He turned the car off and brought a still shaking hand to his face. He rubbed vigorously and ran his hand through his hair, pulling slightly as he massaged his scalp, before bringing it down to his face again. His index finger and thumb pushed at his eyes, willing away the moisture he felt building up, before connecting at the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. He repeated this until he was sure the shaking was almost nonexistent. One last deep breath, then he opened the door and made his way to the front of the house, all the while feeling like he was walking to his execution.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Sam and Cas were in the living room chatting, tv volume low. Sams' arms moved about excitedly as he talked, smile on his face. Cas' full attention was on Sam. Dean passed the doorway quickly, trying not to be seen by the duo in the room. He heard Ellens' voice drift through from the kitchen. He heard the words 'John', 'homophobic', and 'what would Mary think?' and opted to withdraw upstairs. Music played from Jo's room. Though muffled by the closed door, the lyrics and music were clear as day. Hands still shaking slightly, Dean decided to sit near the door, hoping the music will relax him. The song was one of Jo's favorites.

 

After the song ended, Dean realized for the first time that he was sweating, most likely from the constant shaking of his body. He grabbed a change of clothes (boxers and pajama pants) from his duffel, which was discarded in his and Cas' room earlier in the day, and made his way to the bathroom. The words from the song still etched in his mind.

 

Under the water, Deans' mind went back to the broken pieces of conversation he heard from Ellen not ten minutes ago. She seemed to think that his mom would have been disappointed in how his father acted earlier. He felt a slight tightness in his chest. Head thrown back, he couldn't help but stare at the ceiling, as if he were staring up to heaven. Would his mom really not have cared if he had a crush on Cas?

 

The five percent dropped to two percent.

 

Ok, he can accept that his mom would still love him if she were still alive. So why was he still unsure about his feelings? He finished his shower, still feeling somewhat clammy and shaky.

 

He used a towel to dry his body off before getting dressed. Fresh boxers and pajama pants on, Dean attacked his hair and shoulders with his towel. He brushed his teeth and rinsed before placing his palms on the sink, leaning forward and trying to collect his thoughts. He looked at his reflection, shocked to see the wild glean in his eyes. The lyrics that poured from Jo's room earlier replayed in his mind.

 

_Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?_ His breaths started quickening. _Can the child within my heart rise above?_ He was almost eighteen years old, he shouldn't be reacting to a crush like this! He's not some teenage girl. _And can I sail through the_ _changing_ _oce_ _an tides?_ Change. Slowly, he began to hyperventilate. Change is such a scary thing. Change means nothing stays the same. If John found out. A shudder ran down his spine. _Can I handle the seasons of my life?_ If he gave into these foreign urges, the need to be near Cas, to kiss him, he won't have any control over his life. Everything he knows will be different. _Oh oh I don't know, oh I don't know._ He didn't know what to do. He had faith when he left the cemetery that everything would be ok. He strongly believed his mom was giving him permission to be with Cas. _Well, I've been afraid of changing._ If he said yes, even keeping Sam safe would be harder. It's too big of a secret to hide from John. _'Cause I've built my life around you._ John, who has shaped Dean into the person he is today by being the negative in his life. His purpose in life is to keep Sam safe. To make sure Sam had the life Dean couldn't. He took a deep breath and held it, trying to calm his breathing and heart rate down, his fingers curled around the edge of the sink. _But time makes you bolder._ He released the breath, relieved that he was slowly calming down. Maybe for once he was allowed to do something for himself. Maybe he could find a reason, other than Sam, to wake up each morning. _Children get older, I'm getting older too._ Sam has already proved just this past summer that he's starting to think for himself. He's no longer the little kid who needed his scraped knee kissed better. If Sam can start having independence, then why not Dean? _Yes I'm getting older too._ With a last deep breath, Dean nodded at his reflection before exiting the room, towel still wrapped around his shoulders.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean wasn't sure what he was expecting when he walked into the bedroom. Part of him wanted to just get the conversation done and over with. The other part wanted him to run. So when he opened the door to find the room still empty he was only half relieved. He grabbed the towel from around his shoulders and rubbed at his hair again, then walked across the room to hang it to dry on the hook on the wall. Without anything else to do, he sat on the edge of the bed and started thinking again.

 

How the hell is he supposed to do this? He can't just blurt it out. 'Hey Cas, I sort of kind of have feelings for you.' Yeah, because that would go well. What if John found out? He would be putting himself, Sam, and Cas in danger. He shakes his head. No. He can't let John find out. He can't even tell Jo or Sam. If one of them accidentally let something slip then it would all be over. His knee started bouncing. Then there was his mom. His mom who he barely knew. Would she really be ok with her oldest being gay, bisexual, what ever. What is he now? He never felt attracted to another man, so why Cas? Why this blue eyed man with the strange name?

 

He leaned forward on his knees, one leg still bouncing up and down. Does this change him, this realization? He's still into cars. Point 1 for masculinity. But he likes Cas! He still likes rock music. Another point to masculinity. But Sam and Jo got him listening to more modern day music. Does that count against him? No. Many people like modern music. He's allowed to like different music, right?

 

“Dean?”

 

Deans' head shot up at the mention of his name. Cas stood in the door way, a concern look on his face. “Dean, are you ok?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, man.” His voice came out kind of shaky. He cleared it and tried to steady himself. “Why do you ask?”

 

Cas narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. _**Again with the cat face?**_ “Well for starters your hands are shaking and your... crying?” Cas blinked rapidly, as if unsure whether he was seeing things or not.

 

Dean raised one of his hands to his face. When he pulled it back it was wet. _**When did I start crying?**_

 

“Are you sure you're ok?” Cas asked again.

 

“Yeah...” Cas glared at him and crossed his arms. “...no. No I'm not ok.” He blinked and finally felt the tears roll down.

 

“You want to talk about it?” he asked, concern evident in his gravely voice? He was still standing in the door way. Dean stared at those eyes that have been haunting him. _Just answer him, dammit!_

 

He nodded, not sure if he could trust his voice. As Cas walked towards the bed, Dean moved back and crossed his legs. Cas sat across from him, mimicking his sitting position.

 

“Dean...”

 

“You said we needed to talk, right Cas?” he asked. Cas nodded.

 

“Yeah. We do.”

 

A minute passed, and neither said anything. They just stared at each other, cross-legged on the bed. Dean was lost in the other mans ocean eyes.

 

“Truth or Dare,” Dean blurted, eyes becoming wide. Where the hell did that come from?

 

Cas was just as confused. “Wh-what?”

 

“Lets play truth or dare.” he said in a calmer, surer, voice.

 

“O-okay. But since it was your idea, you have to go first.” Dean nodded. “Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

Cas took a moment to figure out his first question, face scrunched up in concentration. “Okay. Um... you already know that I'm going to school to become a doctor next year. What do you plan to do after high school?”

 

_**Shit. Only Jo knows. Should I tell him?**_

 

_Tell him you idiot!_

 

“Um... if I tell you will you promise not to let anyone else know?”

 

“You're not supposed to answer with a question, Dean. That's not how the game works,” Cas chuckled.

 

Dean glared. “I know that Cas. But I can't tell you if you're going to tell anyone else!”

 

Cas thought for a second. “You're not going to become a stripper are you?” he deadpanned. Dean laughed. Man, how long has it been since he had a good laugh.

 

“Nah, man. Nothing like that. Can I trust you to keep it quiet though? I just don't want anyone else to know yet.” Cas nodded. “Okay... I'm leaving for Missouri in July.”

 

“Why Missouri?”

 

His hand unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. “I sort of forged my dad's signature so that I could join the Army.”

 

Cas' eyes got wide. “You're joining the military?”

 

“Yeah. Military Police. Should be fun, right?”

 

“If you say so.” Cas shrugged. “You're turn.”

 

“Ok. Truth or dare, Cas?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Why don't you and your siblings look anything alike?” It has been bothering Dean all day. There is no similarities between Cas, Anna, and Gabe.

 

“New rule,” Cas said abruptly, causing Dean to jump backward. It was Deans' turn to be confused. “Anything said in this room, stays in this room. Agreed?”

 

Dean thought about it. If Cas didn't have feelings for him, then at least he couldn't say anything to Jo or anyone else about it. He found himself nodding. “Fair enough.”

 

Cas took a deep breath. “Ok.” He stared hard at Dean, uncertainty in his eyes. “Anna and Gabe... aren't my real siblings.”

 

Dean blinked a few times. They aren't his siblings? What the hell does that mean? “What?”

 

“I mean, they are my siblings, but not by blood. We were all adopted when we were less than a year old. Anna and Gabe don't know.”

 

“Then how do you know?”

 

Cas averted his eyes. His cheeks turned read from embarrassment, or was it shame? Dean couldn't help but think how adorable Cas was when he blushed. He locked eyes with Dean again before continuing. “I, um, sort of got bored one day about two years ago. Anna and Gabe was out with some friends and my adopted parents were out of town. I found a box in their room with all of our adoption information.” He let out a breath. “We always wondered why we weren't allowed in their room, you know? And I was home alone that day and was just like 'fuck it'.” Tears started to form in his eyes. “My birth parents died in a car crash coming home from a date. They left us with a babysitter.”

 

“Us?”

 

“I only have one living blood relative. My twin. Jimmy.”

 

“You have a twin?” Dean was surprised to find his voice so low.

 

Cas nodded. “Yeah. We were separated. I went to Lilith and Alistair Milton. Jimmy went to the Novaks. Apparently we're identical twins.”

 

“Jimmy Novak and Castiel Milton. Wow. Um. I'm sorry man. I'm so sorry. Have you ever met him? Jimmy, I mean?”

 

Cas shook his head. “I can't not until my birthday.” He let out a sad laugh. “I'm not even supposed to know about him, Dean. How could they raise me and not even tell me that I have a twin?” A tear ran down his cheek. Dean wanted nothing more than to wipe in away and hug Cas until he felt better.

 

“I swear to you, Cas. I'll help you find him one day. I don't care if I die trying. If I knew about Sammy and never met him, I would be pissed.”

 

“Thank you, Dean. Truth or dare?”

 

Dean almost forgot they were playing the game. “Truth.”

 

“When I came in, why were you crying?”

 

He bit his lip nervously. “When I left earlier I went to see my mom. I, um, just had a lot of things on my mind, is all. I didn't even realize I was crying. Truth or dare?”

 

He didn't give Cas a chance to get more information. He wasn't ready to let Cas know yet. Cas knew that there was more behind his answer, but he let it slide for now. There was still a chance to find out later. “Truth.”

 

“How hard has it been... being gay?”

 

Cas bit his lip. Dean tried hard, very hard, not to moan. He settled for a painful gulp instead. “I told Anna and Gabe when I was fourteen. They've been supportive. They were the only ones who knew until a few months ago. It was the last day of school for the year. One of the popular guys came up to me during study hall and tried kissing me. I told him to leave me alone, but he wouldn't stop. So I broke his nose and one of his arms. Thankfully, my classes already completed finals.”

 

“Damn, Cas!”

 

He shrugged. “I went to the principal office while he was drove to the hospital. I told the truth, got expelled, and Lilith and Alistair grounded me. Funny thing is, they grounded me because I was gay, not for beating someone up.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“Eh. I'm here now. Nothing we can do about it. Truth or dare, Dean.”

 

“Truth.”

 

He averted his eyes again. After a loud gulp, he asked in a small voice, “how did your mom die?”

 

“That's a bit personal, Cas.” Dean said. His voice was quiet as well. He could feel moisture between his again.

 

“I think it's a fair question, Dean. I told you about Jimmy. I'm not even supposed to know about Jimmy.” He looked up. “Please?”

 

Dean sighed and tried to hold back the tears. “I was four. She was reading me and Sam a bedtime story in the nursery. After the story, she lifted me up to give him a kiss. I asked her if I could stay real quick to tell Sam something. I don't even remember what it was. She left the room and told me to meet her out in the hallway. When I finished, I tripped and fell into the dresser. A cup of water fell and spilled onto the nightlight. I didn't say anything when I left the room. My dad tucking me into bed when we smelled smoke. My mom was already in the nursery by the time we got there. I don't know why she went back, but when we got to the door, she was already in flames. My dad grabbed Sam and told me to get out of the house. When the firefighters got there, the house was partially in flame and my dad was running out the front door. I couldn't speak. I couldn't tell anyone that I spilled the water. It's my fault my mom is dead.” Tears were rolling down Deans' face, but he didn't care. Cas was the first person he told this to.

 

“Dean. You were young. You didn't know it would happen. It was an acci-”

 

“Don't you dare say it was an accident, Cas. It's my fault. I'm to blame.”

 

Unlike earlier when Dean wanted to hug Cas about Jimmy, Cas unfolded his legs and scooted over to Deans' side. He arms wrapped around him in a tight hug.

 

“Dean. It could have happened to anyone. It's not your fault.”

 

He shoved Cas' arms away. “Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. She didn't deserve to die.”

 

“No one deserves to die, Dean. Not like that.”

 

“I almost killed Sammy too. I don't deserve to be alive, Cas.”

 

“I'm happy you're alive,” he mumbled. Dean didn't hear him though. “Do you want to continue with the game?”

 

Dean wiped his face. He took a few minutes to calm himself down, then nodded. “Sure. Um... Truth or dare, Cas?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“When did you realize you were gay?”

 

Cas gave him a look and cocked his eyebrow. “Oookaay? What's up with the sudden interest with my sexuality?”

 

Dean shrugged. “Just curious.”

 

Cas sighed softly. “I was thirteen. It was one of my classmates birthday and she had a party. We were playing spin the bottle. The popular guy, the one that I got in the fight with last June, spun it and it landed on me. We had to kiss... It was my first kiss.” He paused for a moment before his face turned red. “It was my only kiss until a month ago.”

 

Cas stayed quiet after that. It took a moment for Dean to realize what he meant.

 

_**A month ago? What happened a month ago?**_

 

_Think about it, Winchester._

 

Deans' eyes got wide. Oh. He was Cas' second and last kiss.

 

“Oh.”

 

Dean couldn't look Cas in the eye, and vice versa. It took a few minutes before either one was comfortable to speak. “So, um, truth or dare, Dean?”

 

“Truth,” he answered, still looking at anything but Cas.

 

Cas looked at Deans' chest and saw the dark bruises that were still there. “What happened after Jo and I left yesterday morning?”  


He knew the question was bond to come up. Rubbing his neck, he finally looked at Cas. “What do you think happened?”

 

“Dean. We've been through this already. You can't answer with an answer.” he said softly.

 

He could see the answer in Cas' eyes though. He scrunched his eyes, willing the tears away. Without opening them, he answered Cas in a shaky breath. “My dad beats me.” A tear managed to escape an eye. He lifted an angry hand to wipe it away, but was stopped by a gentler one cupping his cheek. His breath caught in his throat. Cas rubbed his thumb over Deans' cheek, wiping away the tear. He opened his eyes to find Cas' blue ones a foot away from him. Cas released his face and moved away. There was no pity or disgust on Cas' face. He let the breath out. “Truth or dare?” he asked.

 

“Truth.”

 

“Have you ever been so scared of something that it physically affected you?”

 

“No.”

 

He searched Cas' face. “Are you lying to me, Cas?”

 

“No. I understand what the question means, but I have yet to experience something that impacting. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Why were you really crying?”

 

His eyes glistened with tears and his voice broke. “I'm scared, Cas. I don't know what to do, but I'm so scared. I'm worried about what my dad would do if he knew, and I'm worried about what would happen to Sam if dad were to find out.”

 

“What are you scared about, Dean?”

 

He couldn't answer. He shook his head as tears poured down his cheeks. “Truth or dare, Cas?”

 

“Truth.”

 

“Do you have feelings towards me, Cas?”

 

Cas' breath hitched. “What do you mean, Dean? You're my friend.”

 

“Are those the only feelings though?”

 

He shook his head. “Dare.”

 

“What?” Dean was confused.

 

“I change my mind. I want dare.”

 

_**This is it.**_

 

Deans' eyes stared into Cas', searching. “I dare you to show me what I mean to you.”

 

Dean saw the questioning look in Cas' eyes. Cas bit his lip and slowly crawled closer to Dean. His breath hitched in his throat as Cas' legs straddled his lap. Cas' hand carded through his still wet hair. The questioning look was still in Cas' eyes, asking for permission to continue. Deans' blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out all sound. He was lost in Cas' eyes, in his scent. Cas smelled of honey and rain. How someone could smell of rain, he didn't know. But Cas did. He almost passed out when Cas' lips met his own.


	13. Why don't we break the rules already?

 Dean woke up in a tangle of limbs and a huge smile on his face; which lasted all of ten seconds. Well, after ten seconds he was still entangled in limbs, but his smile fell.

 

After Cas kissed him, which he still pats himself on the back for not passing out, mind you, he got up and took a shower, leaving Dean to his thoughts. Part of him was ecstatic that Cas actually kissed him. Cas. Kissed. Him. Do I need to say more?

 

The other part started freaking out. Did this mean that Cas really had feelings for him, or was he just going to be a mindless fuck? Where did they stand? Were they going out now? Were they friends with benefits? What the hell did his life turn into?

 

Without answers to any of these questions, Dean laid down under the covers. His head was hurting from all the tears he cried that day and from the countless hours of thinking. He was just falling asleep when Cas entered the room again. A thump and rustle of fabric told Dean that Cas dropped his towel and kicked it across the floor. The lights flicked off and Cas climbed into bed. There might have been a peck on his forehead and a whispered 'goodnight', but Dean was too far gone to pay any more attention.

 

So now it's the morning after. God, that sounds like they had sex and now it's the awkward 'it's not you it's me and we just don't work so I'll see you around, maybe'. But that's not the case. No. Because Cas is gorgeous and Dean is head over feet for him and he doesn't deserve someone like him.

 

For the first time Dean realized that Cas is family. How wrong his life has become. Sure, Cas isn't family by blood, a fact that only himself and Cas knew, and maybe even Aunt Ellen, because surely she knew that her sister Lilith never conceived, but he's still family. Just like Jo is Sam and Deans' 'sister', Cas is their 'cousin'. Bobby's voice in his head was on repeat, continuously saying that 'family don't end in blood'. So to add to Deans' mental breakdown, he now feels like he's committing an act of incest. But is he really? And his head is swimming and everything is telling him that his life sucks and something always comes up to ruin anything good that could potentially happen.

 

The smell of bacon and eggs, sausage and pancakes, and even coffee and orange juice, floated up the stairs and through the closed door. Cas shifted lightly in his sleep, soft breaths indicating that he's still asleep. Their arms and legs are still tangled together, making it nearly impossible for Dean to try and escape from the room. But he tried anyway, and as a result, Cas' impossibly blue eyes open, and they stare, green on blue, for what felt like eternity.

 

“Dean! Cas! Breakfast is ready!” Jo called up the stairs.

 

Dean broke eye contact and shifted his weight onto his side, the side closer to the door. “We're coming!” he called out.

 

He looked back to Cas and smiled, lost in those blue eyes for a moment before the fear entered him again and his smile fell. Cas must have saw something in his face, for his own was now cast in confusion. “What's wrong Dean?” he asked.

 

He lifted his hands to his face and rubbed. Sighing, he looked back to Cas. “I'm just... confused.”

 

Cas knitted his eyebrows. “What are you confused about?”

 

Dean waved his hand between them. “This. Us. Last night. I mean.” He rubbed his hand through his hair, making it look more bed ridden than before.

 

“I don't understand,” Cas said. “I thought you wanted me to kiss you last night.”

 

“I did! I mean...” He screwed up his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the on coming headache. He sighed again. “Is that the only reason you kissed me?” he asked, not looking at the other man.

 

“Dean.” He paused. Dean rolled onto his back and kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and walls, anything that wasn't Cas. “Dean, look at me,” he said softly. Blue eyes met green again. “Do you really have to ask that question?” he asked. At Deans' confused look Cas sighed. “I lost my virginity to a man I didn't know, who left me seconds later because he freaked out. Only to find him at my aunt's house the next day and was put on punishment with him. Was forced to spend a week with him. And then spilled my life story to him last night before kissing him. And yet I wake up next to this man the next morning, this man with the greenest eyes I've ever seen, with a huge breakfast downstairs waiting for us, if the smell wafting through the house is any indignation for how much food is down there, just to basically be asked if I'm messing with his emotions. Really, Dean?” he said, somehow all in one breath. Cas cocked a questioning eyebrow at Dean.

 

Dean was shocked. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he didn't stop to think what Cas was going through. He groaned and brought his hands to his face. Cas sighed again. “Dean.” Dean 'hmm' in response. “Do you regret last night?”

 

He shook his head and dropped his hands. “No, Cas. I just... What does this make us?” He paused, hoping Cas would answer. He felt the tears threaten to build behind his eyes again. At Cas' lack of a response, he continued. “What are we, Cas? Are we together, friends with benefits, what?”

 

From the corner of his eye he saw Cas give him a look. A look Dean knew all too well. It was the look of someone trying to deliver bad news as carefully as possible, without hurting the other person's feelings. “Dean... I'm not ready for anyone else to know I'm gay. And you're captain of the football team. You'll be the most popular guy in school. You'll be expected to parade through the halls with the person you're seeing. I... I can't let anyone know, Dean.” he finished in a small, scared voice.

 

Dean heard laughter. Uncontrollable, maniacal laughter, and it wasn't until he saw the look on Cas' face that he realized he was the one laughing. “Really, Cas? Really? You think that I'm just going to parade this new found gayness in school, when it could get back to my dad?”

 

Realization dawned on Cas and he sheepishly looked away. “My apologizes. I didn't realize.”

 

He calmed down, not sure where the laughter really came from. Maybe he was going insane. Yeah, he liked that idea. He was going insane. “So where do we stand, Cas?” he asked, turning his head on his pillow to gaze at Cas' face.

 

Cas finally looked up, a determined look on his face. Dean saw his blue eyes shift back and forth as if they were looking for something. All of a sudden, Dean felt a hand behind his neck, rolling him to his side and pulling him forcefully to Cas. Lips crashed together brutally. Teeth hit painfully together, but neither cared. Dean, shocked at first, kissed back just as eagerly. His hand found it's way to Cas' hair, still just as silky as ever. His other hand wound around Cas' waist, pulling him closer, trying to melt two bodies into one. His knee slotted in between Cas' legs.

 

The stomping footsteps up the stairs brought their attention back to reality. They pulled apart, making sure there was a reasonable distance between them, before the bedroom door slammed open and Jo marched in. Dean wrestled with Jo for the blanket, a childish squeak of 'hey!' escaping his lips, which he will deny to the day he died.

 

“It's been ten minutes, guys! Get the hell out of bed!” she yelled, smacked Dean's arm, and marched out the room. Dean and Cas shared a look, smiles on both of their faces.

 

“I suppose we should head downstairs,” Cas said, an impish glint in his eye.

 

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. His eyes roved over Cas' face before pulling the man into another, less heated, kiss. When he pulled back a few seconds later, a playful smile was on his face. “So does this mean we're dating now?”

 

Cas brought his finger to his lip, tapping it with a thoughtful expression, much like what Winnie the Pooh does. He swore he heard 'think, think, think' before Cas spoke. “I don't know...” he playfully said with a sing song voice. After a moment, in which he continued to tap his bottom lip, his expression became serious. His hand grabbed the back of Deans' neck again and brought their foreheads together. Looking into Deans' eyes, he said, “Will you be my boyfriend, Dean Winchester?”

 

Deans' face split in two, his smile bright and borderline painful. “God, yes!” A tear might have fell down Deans' face, but it went unnoticed as their lips met once again in a soft kiss, before they, regrettably, climbed out of bed and made their way downstairs.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The day passed relatively uneventful. John didn't grace everyone with his presence, much to everyone's approval. The four teenagers spent the last precious hours of summer vacation hanging out in the living room watching movies and wasting the day away. After dinner that night, Bobby came over, claiming he had a surprise for Jo. The group made their way out front to find a red 1984 Chevy Caprice. Confused, she turned her gaze to Bobby, who looked at Ellen. It only took a moment for her to understand. She jumped up and down in glee, before tackling her mom with a hug and so many thank yous that Ellen threatened to have Bobby take it back.

 

Dean, Jo, and Bobby spent the next half hour admiring the car, Jo wearing a smile the whole time. They went back inside, Dean and Jo returning to the living room while Bobby grabbed a beer from the kitchen and talked to Ellen. By nine o'clock, Dean and Sam were getting packed up in the Impala.

 

“Shit, Sammy. I forgot something upstairs. I'll be right back,” Dean said, making up an excuse to see Cas real quick. He found Cas in the bedroom, organizing his backpack for the next day. Dean made a comment about Cas being as much of a nerd as Sam. In return, Cas sent a glare towards Dean. They gave each other a quick goodbye kiss, agreed to meet up at the school the next day, then Dean left and drove Sam and himself home.

 

Dean fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in years. Ten minutes away, Cas wore an identical smile. The four teenagers mutually agreed that it was the perfect summer ending. 

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

_'CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SOOOOON!'_ Dean groaned. _'THERE BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DOOONE!'_ He rolled onto his stomach and tried to block the attack on his eardrums with a pillow. _'LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!'_ He grumbled at a loud banging on his door. _'DON'T YOU CRY NO MOOOORE!'_

 

“Dean! Get up! We have to get ready and I _really_ don't want to be late on the first day!” Sam screamed through the door. With a heavy hand, Dean managed to hit the snooze button, cutting off the guitar solo.

 

It was the first day of senior year, and all Dean wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep the day away. He lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at the time, and groaned again. Six thirty in the morning was way to early for anyone to wake up. Dean will never understand how Sam could do it. Slowly, he forced his body out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, eyes closed and heavy from sleep. A quick shower and thirty minutes later, Sam and Dean were climbing into the car, backpacks tossed carelessly into the back seat.

 

The best part about living in such a small town is the fact that the three schools- elementary, middle, and high- are close together. Since high school starts a half hour earlier than the other two schools, Dean can park in the student parking lot with Sam still in tow, and not have to worry about Sam being late. A five minute walk is all it takes for Sam to get to the middle school.

 

With the windows rolled down, the crisp September air bit lightly at the brothers' cheeks. About five minutes from the school, Dean started fiddling with the radio. His hand stopped as the sounds of a woman's voice belted out of the speakers. It wasn't by any means his usual type of music, but the lyrics caught his attention. 

 

_'_ _They think we're lovers kept under cover, I just ignore it but they keep sayin' we... Laugh just a little too loud, Stand just a little too close, We stare just a little too long.'_

 

A small smirk threatened his lips. However, once the song got to the chorus, he couldn't control the laughter that erupted from his lungs, which earned him a confused bitchface from Sam.

 

_'_ _Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about (Somethin' to talk about). A little mystery to figure out (Somethin' to talk about). Let's give 'em somethin' to talk about. How about love?'_

 

Really, Dean didn't know why he found the song so funny. Breaking his rule of 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole', Sam reached over and turned the radio down.

 

“Dude. What's so funny?” he asked.

 

A small chuckle escaped his lips. “I honestly don't know, Sammy.” Sam gave him yet another bitchface.

 

“I think you've finally cracked, Dean.”

 

He shook his head. “Whatever. Bitch.”

 

Sam crossed his arms and looked away, a small smile on his face. “Jerk.”

 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later. After a quick goodbye to Sam, which consisted of ruffling the mane of hair on top the younger Winchesters' head, he headed towards the building. Before entering the school, he looked back to see his brother walking the opposite way, backpack bouncing up at every forward step. He shook his head, a fond smile on his face, before he faced towards the door again. He took a deep, collecting, breath and grasped the handle.

 

With the opening of the door, his hair was blown back at the onslaught of cold air from the air conditioning. He walked around students, maneuvering his way through the familiar halls until he found his locker, the same locker he used everyday for the past three years. He turned the dial on the lock until he heard the faint click, then popped it opened. Of course, he didn't know what his class schedule looked like yet, only which classes he would have throughout the school year. A letter from the school a few weeks ago notified the students that the school was once again attempting block scheduling, which consisted of four classes the first half of the year, and the remaining four classes the second half. With that in mind, Dean deposited half of his notebooks and binders in his locker before closing it and heading to his homeroom class.

 

Deans' homeroom teacher, the trigonometry teacher named Mr. Madara, is a tall, balding red headed man who acts more like a teenager than a teacher. He loved having Madara as homeroom. No matter what type of mood his day started as, being in Madara's presence was an almost guarantee pick me up. Despite it being the first day, the previous days' events had Dean in an unusually happy mood. He began making his way towards the back of the room, before a hand caught his shoulder. He turned around and was surprised to see Mr. Madara in front of him.

 

He handed Dean a packet, the same packet you get at the beginning of every school year. You know which one I'm talking about. Your basic information, emergency contact, those papers.

 

“Winchester, you're needed at the guidance office.” That was all he said before he turned around and went back to his desk to continue marking people present. Dean shrugged, it wasn't like he was in trouble. The first bell haven't – never mind.

 

He shifted his backpack strap higher on his shoulder before walking out the door and heading to the office. The sound of the late bell was still ringing in his ears by the time the door came in view. He didn't notice Meg Masters walking from the opposite direction and thus bumped into her.

 

Meg Masters was of average height, with a round face and long dark hair. As cheerleading captain, she has slept with the whole football team (minus Dean, who to this day is proud of his drunken self for not falling into her lap), baseball team, soccer team, basketball team, and even all of the males on the track team. In a nutshell, she's the slut of Lawrence High and has Dean as number one target for the year. Which is probably the only reason why, when Dean mindlessly bumped into her outside of the office, instead of snapping at him, she looked up with the flirtiest smile she could form and batted her eyes.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. He has had three years of this treatment from Meg, and since he and Cas are now dating, he has even less interest in her (which is a surprising task considering he had zero interest in her in the first place).

 

“Deany baby! How are you this fine morning?” she asked. Instead of answering her, he walked into the office. Her smile fell, but he could feel her eying him up from behind.

 

The office secretary looked up at the sound of the door. After her eyes landed on Dean and Meg, she stood up and walked towards one of the guidance counselors doors. She rapped lightly against the wood, opened the door wide enough to stick her head in, and a moment later she was seated behind her desk again. “Mr. Hunt will be right with you. Have a seat in the chairs and don't talk,” she informed them without looking up.

 

Dean waited until Meg took her seat, then proceeded to take the farthest seat from her. The less interaction with Meg, the better Deans' life was. Meg, however, disagreed with Deans' seating arrangement, scooting a chair closer to Dean every few seconds. A minute later, and one chair separating them, the door to Mr. Hunts' office opened and three people walked out. Dean and Megs' heads snapped up at the sound of the door opening. Dean had to fight back a smile and a laugh when he saw who was with Mr. Hunt.

 

Mr. Hunt lead the two teenagers, backpacks loosely clenched around the top handle, behind him to the front of the room, and began introductions. “Winchester, Masters. These are your new classmates Castiel Milton and Tessa McKeon. Milton, McKeon. This here,” he pointed at Dean, “is Dean Winchester, the captain of the football team and probably soon-to-be senior class president. And this,” his finger moved to Meg, “is Meg Masters, captain of the cheerleading squad, which you knew already McKeon.” He took a pause, letting the information set in. Dean and Cas' eyes met briefly, managing a respectable few seconds hold. “Winchester.”

 

Deans' attention shifted to Hunt. “Yes, sir?” he asked.

 

“I am putting you in charge of Milton. Show him around the school and to his classes. Same goes for you, Masters, with McKeon.” He reached over the secretary's desk and was handed four pieces of paper. “Here are your timetables,” he handed one to each student. “You have about,” he raised his arm and looked at his wrist, “about five minutes before first block. That's just enough time to direct your charges,” Dean, Cas, and Tessa cringed at the word choice, Meg wasn't phased, “to their first class and get yourself to your respectable classes as well before the bell rings.”

 

The four students nodded and left the room. Once in the hall, Dean and Tessa simultaneously turned towards each other. “Heya, Tess!” Dean greeted, a slightly cocky grin on his face. This earned him a smack on the shoulder from both Cas and Tessa. “Ow! The hell was that for?” he asked, crossing his arms and rubbing both shoulders at once. He was met with two bitchfaces and a confused glance from Meg. A glare towards Tessa, though, had the petite girl giggling.

 

Still chuckling lightly, she walked up to Dean and gave him a loose hug, which he returned. Despite their short history with each other, they did agree to still be friends after all. “Hey, Dean,” she said into his shoulder, her own still shaking slightly.

 

Meanwhile, Meg was eying Cas up like he was her next meal. Cas, however, either didn't notice or was pretending not to notice. Something clenched painfully in Deans' stomach at the look on Megs' face. Tessa, thankfully, dropped the hug after only a few seconds. She stepped back and turned towards Meg. “Shall we get going?” she asked, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. Meg nodded and they left, leaving Dean and Cas alone.

 

Once they were out of eyesight, the two boys locked eyes again. Deans' face broke into a face splitting grin, mirrored by Cas. They closed the short distance between them and hugged tightly. It might have only been less than twelve hours since they last saw each other, but it was twelve hours too long in Deans' opinion.

 

They broke apart sooner than they wanted, in fear of being noticed by a random passerby. “So, Cas. Looks like your stuck with my ugly mug for the day!” he exclaimed.

 

Cas glared at him, his blue eyes hard. “On the contrary, Dean, I don't find you to be unattractive at all.”

 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Jesus, Cas. It's just an expression.”

 

He expected an eye roll, or at least for Cas' expression to harden. What he didn't expect, was for Cas to start laughing and shaking his head, a fond smile gracing his face. “I'm joking, Dean.”

 

Dean rubbed his chest. “Ow, Cas. I'm hurt,” he said, then childishly stuck his tongue out. He clapped his hands. “Anyway. Let's see what our first class is for the day.”

 

Pulling out their timetables, they huddled together and noticed, with identical ecstatic grins, that they shared two of their four classes, first block and third block, as well as lunch. They put their schedules in their pockets, Dean just shoving it in and Cas neatly folding it, and headed down the hall towards Mr. Merritt's Public Speaking class.

 

If Dean had any doubts that senior year would be great, the first day of school proved him wrong.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Mr. Steve Merritt was a strict man. He was also kind of scary looking in Deans' opinion. The rules of his classroom was simple. You don't talk without permission, you speak grammatically correct, and as long as you follow those two rules he'll treat you with respect. To Dean and Cas' relief, there weren't any football players or cheerleaders in the class. Which would have been grand and all, if it weren't for the assigned seating. Dean found himself two rows and three seats behind Cas. Ok, so maybe assigned seating wasn't all bad. At least he had view of his boyfriend, even if it was just the back of his head.

 

By the end of the class period, Dean and Cas learned that Merritt has two daughters, he spent Halloween in the hospital when he was eight because he got hit by a car while on his paper route, he is the girls softball and tennis coach, and he has a sarcastic sense of humor. Deans' lesson of the day: don't judge a book by it's cover. Merritt had the whole class in tears from laughing so hard.

 

Second block of the day found Dean escorting Cas to the health class room. He made sure to take the long way so that he could point out the cafeteria. After promising to meet up at lunch, Dean found his way to study hall. He spent the next hour and a half sitting in a silent room with ten other people, trying not to fall asleep, while the teacher/supervisor of the period sat at a desk on her computer. Dean decided he didn't really like Mrs. Maldonado as much as Mr. Merritt and found himself wishing he was listening to another one of the male teachers' story.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Deans' favorite part of the school day was always lunch. Kansas school district made sure that everyone ate while under their care, so regardless of your parents' income, you received free lunch.

 

Once the bell rang signaling the end of second block, Dean made his way as fast as he could to the lunch room. After waiting in line for what felt like forever, Dean found an empty table and started eating. A few minutes later, Dean jumped as a lunch tray was dropped carelessly on the table across from him. Jo seated herself and dug in. Dean smirked, as a mental image of a caveman came to mind. Before he could comment, though, Cas gracefully placed his own tray down and sat next to Dean. His attention was momentarily distracted by the blue eyed man.

 

“Joanna, your mother would be ashamed if she saw your table manners,” Cas commented. Jo stuck out her tongue in response.

 

She managed to swallow most of the food in her mouth, proving she had a small amount of table etiquette, before she spoke. “So tell me. How horrible are your schedules this semester?” she asked, before proceeding to shovel more food into her mouth.

 

“Well, first block is Public Speaking with Merritt. Man, that man is hilarious!” Dean and Cas caught each others eye, silently chuckling as Merritt's Halloween story made it's way to the forefront of their memory again.

 

“I have health with Mr. Levitsky for second block,” Cas continued.

 

Jo swallowed thickly. “That man is gorgeous! First block I have physics with Leonard. Did you know that he celebrated his thirteenth birthday last year?” she asked. Cas gave her a confused look. Understandable, really. How could a high school teacher only be thirteen, after all? “He was born on February 29th, so technically he's only thirteen, since that's how many actual birthdays he's had. Really, though, he's, what? 52?” She nodded at herself, obviously proud at her quick math. She shook her head. “Anyway,” she continued, “first block is Leonard. Second block is Trig with Madara.”

 

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah. Madara's cool. I have him homeroom.”

 

Jo stopped stuffing her mouth for a second. “So Merritt first block. Who do you have second block, Dean?”

 

“Study Hall with Maldonado.”

 

At this, Jo snorted. Luckily she didn't have any food in her mouth, otherwise it would have been a painful snort. “All that means is that you have an extra hour and a half to do the homework you should have done the night before.”

 

“Damn straight,” he said with a cocky grin.

 

Cas paused with a his fork half way to his mouth. “Dean, you really should care more about your school work. That's not the purpose of study hall.”

 

“Why should I? It's not like I'm going to college!”

 

Jo had a panicked look on her face. She didn't know that Cas knew Dean was going in the Army.

 

“That's besides the point, Dean. The military has an excellent college program for it's soldiers,” Cas said quietly.

 

Dean could have laughed at the shocked expression on Jo's face, but it quickly turned into a death glare that Ellen would be proud of. “ _He knows?_ ” she hissed.

 

Dean cringed. He sent a furtive look towards Cas. “Uh, yeah. It sort of came up the other night.”

 

“He knows and you didn't think that maybe you should have mentioned it to me?”

 

“Look, Jo, I'm sorry, ok? I forgot I told him. I've had other stuff on my mind.” Which, in all honestly, was the truth. Before she could complain farther, the bell rang. With another glare at Dean that simply said 'we're talking about this later', the trio stood up and dumped their trays, ready for the day to be finished.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Health with Mr. Levitsky was nothing special to Dean. Levitsky was one of those teachers that had all the schoolgirls drooling, and in some cases, coming, in their seats. Dean never understood what they all saw in the gym and health teacher. The duration of the hour and a half class was spent with the typical introductions of the students, those stupid note cards where you tell one interesting thing about yourself and an emergency contact, and a brief overview on the curriculum. Each year it was the same syllabus. Health, sex, eating disorders, you name it. To say that Dean was relieved to hear the bell ring is an understatement.

 

It was finally last block, pre-calc with Mrs. Hudock. Mrs. Hudock, like Madara, was a joy to be around. Dean thought himself lucky to have two amazing people to begin and end his school days. Mrs. Hudock was a plump woman in her forties, with two daughters and a son. She was also head of the drama department. The first weekend of every March the drama club did a play, usually a music of some sort, that they spent three months working hard to perfect.

 

The best part about having Mrs. Hudock's class at the end of the day was that there weren't any assigned seats, so Dean got to sit next to Cas. Even though there were fellow teammates and cheerleaders in this class, Dean and Cas could pretend that the jock was sitting next to the new kid in hopes of doing better in the class. There was almost never time for free talking the first half of the class. The second half was always spent working on problems specific to that days lesson, so if Dean and Cas happened to be caught talking to each other, it would be in regards to a math problem. Dean wasn't going to lie, he sometimes had a hard time understanding math.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The first day of senior year was probably one of Deans' favorite days of school. Ever. With Jo finally having her own vehicle, Dean didn't have to worry about Sam waiting for football practice to finish. Which is why, come five in the afternoon, Dean found himself driving to Ellen's house by himself. Ellen always held dinner at her house after the first day of school, wanting the ins and outs of what the new year had to offer.

 

By seven that night, Dean and Sam were driving home. John was passed out on the sofa, surprise surprise, when they walked through the door. Sam made his way up to his room, probably to organize his backpack or something because he's just that much of a nerd. Dean spent the next half hour filling out the packets both of them received earlier that day. Dean entered Sam's room without knocking, dropped his packet on the younger boys' desk, then left for his own room where he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep within minutes.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The next few weeks passed in a very similar way. The first two Saturdays of the year were football scrimmages, which Dean was proud to say they won. His nerves, however, weren't prepared for the first game. He found himself in the busy locker room, dressed in full gear, with his hands shaking, while the coach gave the pregame speech. This was the first game that the school would be attending, the first game Cas would be attending.

 

With Deans' busy schedule, the boyfriends haven't had the chance to really hang out outside of school. He figured part of the reason he was so nervous was due to the fact that Cas could have his attention set solely on Dean for the first time in weeks and not have to worry about being criticized for it.

 

Before he knew it, the team was out on the field, and two and a half hours later, Lawrence High was celebrating their first victory of the school year. After getting changed in the locker room, he made his way to the Impala. Sam, Jo, Cas, Bobby, and Ellen were all there, waiting to congratulate him on a job well done. He was passed from person to person, receiving hugs and a kiss on the cheek from Ellen. They went out for a celebratory lunch at the Roadhouse, on the house.

 

Dean had a hard time keeping his eyes off of Cas. This was, after the first time in weeks that they have spent in each others' company outside of school. A half hour passed. Everyone finished eating and were just enjoying the soft playing of the music that filled the room.

 

Dean decided that he had waited long enough. He walked across the room and joined Cas, Jo, and Sam, who were huddled together around a table conversing. “Hey, Cas,” he broke in.

 

Cas looked up, his eyes shining bright when they found Dean in front of him. “Hello, Dean. Congratulations again.”

 

“Thanks, man. Hey, did you understand what we were doing in Hudock's class yesterday?” Cas gave him a look, as if saying 'of course I did Dean'. Dean rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I couldn't quite grasp the concept of the equations, and I haven't had the chance to start the homework.” This was a lie. Dean, for once, did understand what they were doing in class. “Do you think you could come by and help me out with it?”

 

Cas hesitated for a moment. “Uh, sure. When did you want me to come by.”

 

“I was kind of hoping right now, if possible. I would rather get it done and out of the way as soon as possible, ya know?”

 

Cas took a moment to think it through. After what felt like too long, he nodded. “Sure.”

 

“Great.” His hand landed on Cas' shoulder. A shiver went up his arm at the first contact they've had since the morning before school started. “Thanks man. I owe you one.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean flopped on his bed, not caring that Cas was staring at him as if he had a second head. John left for Oklahoma a few days ago. Apparently, when his parents are sick he'll drop whatever he was doing to go to their aid. If only he would do the same for his children. However, Dean was grateful for his father's absence. It meant that he and Cas were truly alone without fear of interruption.

 

“Dean, I thought you said you needed help with our math homework.”

 

Dean lifted his head off his pillow and looked at Cas. He smirked, dropped his head, and shrugged. “I lied.”

 

“Deeeeaan!” Cas whined. Dean swore he heard a foot stomp as well.

 

He sat up and faced his boyfriend, eyebrow cocked and smirk firmly in place. “Did you just whine?” he chuckled.

 

“No?” Cas crossed his arms.

 

“Stop acting like an overgrown child.” He chuckled again. “So, tell me, Cas. If we don't have any work to do, and everyone is at the Roadhouse, minus my dad, who is in a different state, what ever shall we do?”

 

Cas started to chew his lower lip. If Dean didn't know any better, he would say Cas was nervous. He held out his arms in Cas' direction. When Cas didn't make any indication that he was going to move, Dean stood up and walked towards the shorter man. “Come here,” he said, before wrapping his arms around Cas. Cas leaned into the hug and nuzzled Deans' neck. He laid his head on top of Cas'. “I've missed you,” he mumbled into the dark hair.

 

Cas leaned back far enough to look Dean in the eye. “We see each other in school everyday, Dean,” he stated confusedly. Deans' eyes softened, a small fond smile graced his features.

 

“Yes. But, this is the first time we've been alone in a while, Cas. I've missed you,” he repeated. One of his hands lifted to the back of Cas' neck, gently pulling him in. The kiss was soft. There was no need to rush it this time. He broke the kiss after a few short seconds. “Why are you so quiet, Cas?” he asked. He saw and heard the quiet gulp that answered his question.

 

He backed away, missing the warmth of Cas' body instantly, and walked towards the radio on his nightstand. He pressed the button to turn it on and made his way back to Cas' warm embrace, as the iconic song from the movie 'Ghost' drifted lightly out of the speakers. One arm wrapped around Cas' waist, hand splayed on Cas' lower back, thumb rubbing soothing circles. His other hand loosely gripped one of Cas'. Cas moved his free arm up, resting his hand on Deans' shoulder. Dean bent his head, nuzzled the soft skin and hair at Cas' ear, before he quietly started to sing. “Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered,” the hand holding Cas' slowly freed itself, “for your touch.” His fingers lightly ghosted up and down Cas' arm. “Alone, lonely time. And time goes by so slowly." His fingers moved down Cas' side, a hot trail leading to his waist. “And time can do so much. Are you,” he grabbed both hips and pulled them towards him, “still mine?"

 

Cas' arms were wrapped around Deans' neck. They stood in the middle of Deans' room, holding each other, while the music continued to play. “I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me! Lonely rivers flow. To the sea, to the sea. To the open arms of the sea! Lonely rivers sigh. 'Wait for me, wait for me.  
I'll be coming home, wait for me!'”

  
  


Dean held Cas' face in his hands, gentle circles being caressed in his cheeks. As the song began to repeat itself, Dean lowered his head, placing a soft, yet passionate kiss to the other mans' lips. The song was all but a blur in the background. Cas' light hands pushed Deans' plaid over-shirt off his shoulders. They broke apart as it fell to the floor. Taking turns, they pulled the others' shirt over their heads before their lips met in the middle again. Deans' calloused fingers pulled Cas closer, bare skin finally touching bare skin after far to long, as Cas gasped into Deans' mouth.

  
  


He started stepping backwards, keeping Cas' now flushed body against his own. When the back of his legs hit the edge of his bed, he slowly turned them around and laid Cas atop the blankets. Breaking the kiss, his lips outlined Cas' jaw with gentle pecks, slowly working his way down the other mans' neck. Meanwhile, his hands were inching their way towards the waistband of Cas' jeans. Fingers ghosted over the smooth, toned stomach beneath him. His lips found one of Cas' nipples, tongue flicking out to tease the tender flesh. Fingers fumbled eagerly with the button on Cas' pants.

  
  


Dean wanted this to last, wanted to make Cas feel good. Ever since Cas' confession to losing his virginity that night almost two months ago, Dean hasn't been able to get the guilty feeling to leave him. It plagued his thoughts at night, preventing his much needed sleep.

  
  


He switched his attention to the other nipple, lightly teasing it with gentle nips. The jeans and boxers slid down easily, his fingers traced light patterns down Cas' warm thighs. With Cas naked beneath him, he shifted his weight to his forearm, now resting on one side of Cas' head, and just stares and admires the relaxed face of his boyfriend.

  
  


“You are so beautiful, Cas. Fuck you're beautiful!” he whined out.

  
  


Cas whimpered. His blue eyes blown wide, leaving nothing but a thin, dark rim around his pupils. “Dean,” he mewled. “Dean, please.” Cas was all but begging Dean. He stood up and shimmied out of the rest of his clothing. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom while Cas repositioned himself to the middle of the bed. He took another moment to admire the view in front of him.

  
  


Cas. Castiel Milton. Who always knew what to say. Always walk around with confidence. The very same Cas, was laying there, spread out on Deans' bed, cock fully erect, leaving a cum trail against his stomach, with the neediest look on his face. The faint glow of sunlight shining through his window hit Cas' body perfectly, and yeah, Cas really was beautiful, with his slim runners body and messy dark hair.

  
  


Dean mounted the bed and slicked three fingers with the lube. He positioned his fingers at Cas' entrance, using one finger to rub the soft muscle down there. Cas' body arched at the contact. Dean brought his head forward for a kiss, as the finger breached Cas' hole. Cas moaned into the kiss, the sound going straight to Deans' cock. They fell into a rhythm of soft kisses and slow movements, their bodies sliding perfectly against each other, sweat slick dicks rubbing smoothly. Gradually, one finger became two, which then became three. After only minutes, Cas was a limp sweaty mess, begging for Dean to fill him.

  
  


Dean pulled back and removed his fingers. Cas whimpered at the lost of contact. After he wrapped and lubed himself, he repositioned over Cas, one hand lining his hard cock against Cas ass, the other next to Cas' head and holding the majority of his weight. He leaned down and rested his forehead against Cas'. Lust filled blue eyes shown bright in the soft glow of the room. Green connected with blue as Dean pushed in, feeling whole for the first time in weeks. A soft gasp left Cas' lips. His hands gripped Deans' shoulders, sure to leave finger shaped bruises.

  
  


“Fu-uck, Cas! You're so fucking tight!”

  
  


Just like that, the slow and gentle pace that Dean had been moving with the past ten minutes disappeared. Pulling out until just the tip of his dick was inserted, he thrust forward and slammed into Cas' ass to the hilt, a grunt escaping his parted lips. He lifted one of Cas' legs, draping it over a shoulder, before pulling back and thrusting back in. Cas' hands clenched the blanket, his body quivered as Dean continues the assault on Cas' body, hitting his prostate with ever thrust forward. It didn't take long before Cas was coming with Deans' name on his lips, painting both stomachs with white come. Three more thrusts had Dean following with a silent scream shortly after.

  
  


His head fell on Cas' shoulder, panting hard as he tried desperately to catch his breath. Cas' leg slid down Deans' sweating arm, breathing just as hard. A chuckle escaped his lips, causing Dean to lift his heavy head up in surprise. Cas had a dazed look on his face, but the smile he sent Deans' way was full of wonder. Dean felt his own lips twitch, before breaking out in laughter. He rolled onto his side, dick pulling out of Cas with a soft 'pop', and draped his arm around Cas' waist.

  
  


They laid like that, Cas on his back and Dean on his side, cuddled up to Cas, for a few minutes. Slowly, they began to take notice of their surroundings as the music from the radio played quietly beside them. Dean recognized the song as one of those boy bands that Jo listens to all the time. He laid there in contentment for a moment and listened to the lyrics, humming along with the tune. “I'll give you every thing I can. I'll build your dreams with these two hands. We'll hang some memories on the wall. And when (and when), just the two of us are there. You won't have to ask if I still care. 'Cause as time turns the page. My love won't ever age at all.”

  
  


Cas broke the silence with gentle laughter. “I'd never have pegged you as the soft, romantic type Dean,” he snickered.

  
  


He hid his head in Cas' shoulder, causing his words to come out muffled. “You shuddup,” he mumbled. This caused another laughing fit from Cas, which earned him a playful smack on his stomach. His hand came back sticky. Dean lifted his head up, a confused and disgusted look on his scrunched up face. _**Oh, yeah,**_ Dean thought, realizing why his hand was sticky as he remembered what they just finished doing.

  
  


He got up and walked out of the room, walking back in a few minutes later with a wet washed cloth in hand. He wiped Cas down, pecking his lips teasingly, before shifting his attention to himself. Satisfied with the quick clean up, he tossed the used washcloth across the room, turned the radio off- noticing how late it had gotten, then focused his attention back to Cas.

  
  


Dean looked his boyfriend's body up and down. He could spend the rest of his life looking at the man in front of him. Deep blue eyes stared up behind thick eyelashes. With a heavy sigh, Dean lent forward to press a closed mouth kiss to Cas' forehead before climbing off the bed.

  
  


“What's wrong?” Cas asked, confusion evident on his face.

  
  


“As awesome as that just was, and I mean it, that was the best sex I've ever had, Cas.” He gave Cas a lazy smile before searching for his clothes. “But as awesome as it was, and no matter how much I just want to lay back down and forget about everything in the world,” he paused to pull his shirt over his head. “We have to get back to the Roadhouse,” he said while pulling his pants on. He heard Cas whimper.

  
  


“But I don't want to,” he groaned, pulling a pillow over his head.

  
  


Dean shook his head and laughed. He walked over, jeans in hand, and tapped Cas' exposed ass. “Come on, angel, get up.”

  
  


He saw Cas pull the pillow off his face, eyebrow cocked. “Angel?” he inquired.

  
  


Dean shrugged. “Because of your name. You don't like it?” he asked, uncertainly. Cas smirked in reply, but there was a faint hint of fond amusement in his eyes. He leaned down to grab the few pieces of Cas' clothes that were next to his feet, dropped them on the bed next to him, and walked across the room. He heard Cas sigh behind him and the sound of the sheets moving as Cas stood up. Slowly, they got dressed, sneaking kissing back and forth. Before long, though, they were back in the Impala, goofy smiles on their faces despite the fact they were no longer snuggled in bed.

  
  


~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Their lives progressed much as it did before that first Saturday game. Dean and Cas would only see each other during school, at the occasional dinner at Ellens' house, and of course after a football game. Every Saturday was a football game, and with the combined effort of Dean, as captain, Coach Armstrong, and of course the rest of the team, the Lawrence high school football team were undefeated.

 

John came back a few days after that Saturday. Parents no longer in need of his help, the eldest Winchester went back to his usual activities; working at the garage and drinking when he wasn't under a vehicle. Dean worked from opening to closing every Sunday, even though he was still under aged for the next few months. Bobby and Ellen helped as much as they could, lending the boys money when they no longer had enough food in the house.

 

Despite their busy schedules, they had a handful of days they cherished. Sam recently started going over to Jess' house for study dates. Jessica was a pretty little blonde with wide vibrant eyes. Dean approved of her the first time they met. It was a rainy afternoon, Dean just finished practice, and he had to pick Sam up from the town library. He watched from the dry safety of the Impala as Sam ran sideways over to the car, a finger held up in her direction. After asking if they could give her a ride home and a nod in Jess' direction, the two young teenagers climbed into the leather back seats.

 

They only had sex one other time after the first Saturday. Practice had finished early that day. Sam was at Jess' house studying again, so Dean drove over the the Harvelle's. Seconds after he knocked on the door, Cas threw it opened and pulled him inside. His lips were on Deans' before the door clicked shut. A quick 'Jo is at a friends' house' is all Dean needed to know. They had the house to themselves. It was a quick, rushed ten minutes, but it left them with a smile on their face the rest of the week.

 

September turned into October, and before they knew it, it was Halloween. Halloween this year fell on a Thursday, but because of the teacher in-service the next day, the annual Halloween dance was, for once, being held on the actual holiday. In honor of the occasion and the day off the next day, the football team had the next two days off, Saturday being a game. It was the end of the day. Dean was at his locker, filling his backpack with the required books for the weekend, when he was surrounded by bodies on either side of him. He rolled his eyes before slamming his locker shut, and turned to his right. The top of Jo's head bobbed in his view. He looked down, for she was a good six inches shorter than him, to see excitement in her wide hazel eyes. His face broke into a huge smile before he turned his head to glance behind him at his boyfriend. They shared a look before he shook his head and walked away.

 

He managed to get a few feet away from them before Jo ran up behind him and jumped on his back, nearly knocking them both to the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist and an arm slung across his chest.

 

“Deeeeeeaaaaan!” she yelled out, fist pumping the air and breathless from her excitement. The few students left in the hallway halted their conversations for a second, attention on the three friends, before shaking their heads and ignoring them altogether. “This year we are definitely winning the costume competition!”

 

He clawed at her hand, trying to release her death grip on his shirt. Beside him, Cas shook with silent laughter. He sent a glare at his blue eyed boyfriend. “You're not helping, Cas!” he grumbled.

 

She jumped off his back before hopping out in front of him and, after grabbing each of the boy's hands, pulled them down the hall. Once outside, they stopped at the Impala. Jo waved her finger in Deans' face, a menacing expression on her own. “You better go straight to my house after grabbing Sam.”

 

He held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok. Pick Sammy up, grab his costume from the house, drop him off at Jess', and then go to your house. I got it,” he rambled in a single breath. Jo gets scary when she gets excited.

 

The three friends climbed into their respective cars, Dean in 'Baby' and Jo and Cas in Jo's car, and went their separate ways. After doing exactly what he told Jo he would do, he walked into the Harvelles' house, not bothering to knock.

 

“Jo! Cas! I'm here!” he called out.

 

Jo came running down the stairs, dressed in sweats with her hair pulled back in a neat, perfect bun. She pointed a shimmery gold-green nail at him. “You. Upstairs to your and Cas' room,” Dean's stomach did a little happy flip at the sound of that, “and get dressed. I'm doing Cas' make-up right now. When you're done, knock three times on the bathroom door, but do not come in. I swear to God, Winchester, if you come in without permission I will personally kill you.”

 

He smiled and saluted with his free hand. “Yes, ma'am!”

 

After making his way to the room, he dropped his backpack and clothes filled duffel on the floor, then laid the costume bag across the bed. He unzipped the costume bag and pulled the pieces of garment from it, before proceeding to undress himself. Wearing nothing but his boxers, he turned towards the bed and groaned. He forgot about the tights. The fucking tights! Grumbling under his breath, he grab the wretched dark green thing and pulled them on. Yep, definitely tight.

 

Once he felt his pride was wounded enough, he sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on the green ankle slippers that came with the costume. At least they were soft on his feet. He sighed deeply before reaching for the long sleeved tan shirt from his duffel. Like hell we was going out in this cold weather and not wear long sleeves. After pulling on the form fitting shirt, he slid the pale green tunic over his head, wrapped the brown string belt around his waist, and slipped the fake daggers' sheath through the string before tying a tight knot just below and to the left of his navel.

 

Of all the costumes he has had to endure for Jo, this is, by far, the girliest feeling one. He stood from the bed, grabbed the hat from the atop the comforter, and stomped out of the room.

 

In fear for his life, he knocked three times, as instructed, on the bathroom door. He heard low voices from behind the wood and objects being thrown in a box. Jo slipped out after a few seconds, blonde hair sprayed back and glittery. Through the crack in the door, for Jo had to open it farther than normal as to not mess up her shiny wings, Dean caught a glimpse of black.

 

He looked back at Jo and knew he had been caught. For the past few weeks, Dean has been trying to get even the tiniest hint of what his boyfriend was dressing up as, but had no success. He gave Jo a sheepish look, which earned him an eye roll and then a slap on the arm, in that order. She grabbed his arm, the same one that was just slapped, and dragged him back to the bedroom.

 

In the light of the bedroom, since the hallway was dimmer, Dean got a better look at Jo's costume. It was the same green as the tunic he currently wore, strapless and curved at the top, accentuating her breasts, and short. Very short and cut triangular at the bottom, almost like really big leaves. The back of the dress curved down to the small of her back. Beneath the dress she wore a see through mesh that covered her arms, shoulders, and back, which the wings were sown into. Nude tights and light green slippers with a big white cotton ball on top completed the look. Her face was currently make-up free.

 

She pulled the chair from Cas' desk in front of the only mirror in the room. “Sit,” she instructed, pointing to the chair, as if it weren't obvious that was the preferred location. He did as she said. She knelt in front of him, placing the box he hadn't noticed she held, beside her.

 

“You better not paint me like a french whore,” he grumbled, glare firmly in place. She waved him off. They sat in silence, Dean keeping his face relaxed and eyes closed. He felt the tell tale sign of concealer being rubbed around his face and neck with a sponge. Don't judge him. Halloween with Jo meant make-up, no questions about it. She replaced the sponge with her hands, evening it out. A brush was swept across his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. He felt her take the brush away from his face, just to feel another one replace it seconds later. Sticky lipstick was next, dabbed onto his bottom lip. He didn't have to be told to rub his lips together, and, as if on cue, he parted them slightly to have a folded napkin inserted along its crease. To Deans' displeasure, she finally applied the eye shadow. He hated eye shadow. It was the hardest thing to get off your face. All in all, the process only took about five minutes.

 

The lack of body heat told him she moved away. He cautiously opened his eyes, as if afraid the make-up had a mind of it's own and would further attack him. He sighed in relief when he saw Jo standing in front of the mirror, applying her own make-up. Curiosity got the better of him. He stood up and walked to her side, looking into the mirror to see what horror he was faced with this year. He almost yelped in fear when he saw his face. Paler than usual, various shades of green eye shadow, and was that _glitter_?

 

He glared at her. “You put glitter on me?!” he exclaimed. “ _Glitter?!_ ”

 

Her own glare reflected in the mirror. “Oh, hush!” she said. He had the feeling, were her hands currently not occupied with her own make-up, that she would have waved him off again.

 

Jo's make-up took a few minutes longer to apply, considering it's apparently easier to perfectly paint someone else's face. Finished, she dropped the eye shadow in the make-up box before she turned towards him, snatched the hat he forgot was clutched in his hands, and shoved it on his head. With a nod of approval, she marched out the room. Dean closed his eyes, breathed deeply, then followed her out.

 

Down the hall, Jo was talking quietly through the door to Cas. When he got close enough to hear formed words, Jo looked up and spotted him. “We'll be downstairs, so come on down when you're ready.” She grabbed Deans' arm and led him down the steps.

 

Five minutes later, Dean and Jo heard the squeaky step at the top of the stairs. Heads turned to the door of the living room, they waited patiently, sort of, for Cas to make his appearance. Dean felt his jaw drop when he caught sight of his boyfriend.

 

There wasn't a single piece of Cas' smooth, silky pale skin showing. His face was painted black, with a lighter, gray color making marks around his eyes and on his cheeks. His nose was the same color gray, though a little shiny, probably Jo's doing. He wore skin tight black tights and a skin tight turtleneck. He had soft black ankle slippers, similar to Deans' own green pair, and black cloth gloves. To top it all off, he had black cat ears perched on his head and, once he turned around at Jo's request, a freaking tail!

 

Dean felt Jo's gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. Two fingers pushed gently under his chin, and that was when he noticed that his mouth was still hanging open. Shaking himself out of his daze, his eyes connected to Cas'. With all the black and the gray on his face, the blue of Cas' eyes seemed brighter, bluer even. Then the fucker did his head tilt thing.

 

His hands lifted of their own accord and came together. Then separated. Then came together again. And again. And again. A smile broke out on his face, splitting it in two with it's intensity, and a laugh erupted from his throat, as his hands continued to come together in a slow, dramatic, applause, and his head shook back and forth. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and somehow he had enough sense to fight them back. If he let anything ruin the make-up, Jo would kill him.

 

Cas narrowed his eyes in confusion, before turning frighten eyes in Jo's direction. “I think I broke him.” Then a deep chuckle burst from his lips, soon joined by Jo's own laughter. Dean couldn't find it in him to care that they were laughing at him. Jo purely in amusement, while Cas' had a hint of fondness mix in his. Dean couldn't find himself to care, because in a few months from now, he will look back at this moment. This moment, where the three teenagers stood in Ellens' living room, wearing tights, and ridiculous make-up, glitter in Jo and Deans' cases, and laughing like maniacs. It was this moment right here, when Dean unknowingly fell in love with his dorky, blue eyed, cat-like angel. And Dean wouldn't trade anything in the world to keep it like this.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The Halloween dance was as loud as ever. Dean and Jo's costumes were definitely some of the best there. To Deans' relief, none of his classmates made fun of the fact that he was wearing tights, or if they did it was behind his back when he couldn't hear. Cas was an automatic hit with all the girls, specifically Meg. When ever Cas was away from Dean or Jo, Meg found her way to his side. Every caress of the arm or whisper in his ear caused Dean to see red. Of course she didn't know that Cas wasn't interested, but he wasn't helping his case any. Every time a flirtation was sent his way, he would answer with his damn head tilt thing he does. Jo found it hilarious, watching all the popular girls pine over a gay guy. Dean, though, suspected that Cas was deliberately acting this way, if the smirk in those blue eyes were any indication.

 

A hour and a half into the dance, the dj cut 'Thriller' off, much to everyone's annoyance. Either you were dancing the dance from the video, or you were watching with amusement while most of the people tripped over their feet or collided with one another. The annoyance rapidly turned into anticipation, as the current class president pulled out note cards. Next to Dean, Jo was shaking with nerves, worrying her bottom lip to the point of bleeding.

 

The first category called out was individual best costume. Cas and Tessa, who both happen to come dressed as cats, won this category. They each received a round of applause, and even though he couldn't see the blush beneath all that black make-up, Cas' sheepish look was more than enough to get the girls wild.

 

With bated breath, the gymnasium was silent. Jo bounced up and down from her nerves, fingers and arms crossed.

 

“And the winner for this years best pairing couple..... Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell!”

 

Jo jumped up and down, a loud shriek escaped her lips. Sure, Dean was embarrassed to have to wear tights and glitter, but the look on Jo's face was worth ever snicker and remark he received that night.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

After the dance, they went back to the Harvelles'. Sam was already there, picked up by Bobby when it got too late for trick-or-treating. Cas was gawked at with awe, while Sam cried from laughing too hard at the glitter on Deans' face. Frustrated, he stormed up the stairs, calling first dibs on the shower.

 

By means of scrubbing his face with Jo's face wash, Dean managed to get every last bit of eye shadow off his face, a feat he was quite proud of, thank you very much.

 

With the intense amount of black make-up on Cas' face, he ended up getting in the shower second. It took Cas nearly twice as long as Dean to wash his face. Dean, meanwhile, was laying in bed snuggled warmly under the thick comforter. This was the first night since school started that Dean and Sam managed to spend the night at Ellen's.

 

Cas entered the room shortly before eleven, rubbing vigorously at his head with his towel. Deans' back was turned towards the door, his chest rose slowly, body emitting soft snores. Cas shook his head, a loving smile on his face. He tossed the towel to the side, turned the light off and climbed under the covers beside Dean. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the other mans' forehead, before snuggling into his boyfriend's warm embrace.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The next day was spent lying around the house playing games and movies. Basically, doing nothing the whole day. That is, at least, what they were doing until just after lunch when Ellen threw each of their backpacks at them. They then proceeded to do their homework, each of them finishing somewhere around dinner.

 

After dinner, Dean and Sam managed to annoy Ellen long enough to agree to let them stay another night. Once again, Dean was passed out before Cas got into the room. At eight the next morning, Dean was downstairs eating cereal before the game. He tried to get the thoughts out of his head about what day it was and just tried to focus on the game less than two hours away.

 

Those two hours flew, and before Dean knew it, the game was over and Lawrence was still undefeated. After his shower, the team received their instructions from coach Armstrong about the new months' practices and games, then they were sent their own way.

 

Sam, Cas, and Jo were waiting for Dean outside the locker room door. Once the congratulations hugs were delivered, the headed to their vehicles. Cas and Jo followed closely behind Dean and Sam, as the Winchester brothers led the way to the cemetery.

 

Today was November second. Mary Winchester has been dead exactly thirteen years. Since her untimely death, Ellen and Bobby would take Sam, Jo, and Dean to visit her grave at least once a year. Once Dean passed his driver's test three years ago, however, he has replaced Bobby and Ellen on driving duty, and has taken them to the grave site from that day on.

 

They parked the cars and walked between gravestones, searching for the one with smooth granite and a porcelain guardian angel. Dean knew his way around the cemetery the best, having been the one who visited the most. It was only two short months since his last visit to see his mother. Most improvised visits made by the eldest Winchester son was used as any other visit. Complain about John, boast about Sammy, and ask for forgiveness. That visit two weeks ago, however, was life changing. Dean sent a furtive looks towards his right, hungrily absorbing the shape and outline of Cas' face.

 

The four teenagers stopped, circling around the grave. Jo stepped forward first and knelt. She was only three when Mary died, but there were few, blurry memories that she held dear.

 

“Hey, Aunt Mary. We miss you down here. I wish we had more time to spend together. Schools' good. Me and Dean finally won the Halloween costume competition at school. Uncle John is, well, he hasn't changed much. Promise me you're still looking out for us? Love you, Aunt Mary.” she brought her fingers to her lips, then pressed them to the stone in front of her.

 

After Jo stood up, Sam moved forward and position himself in the same spot. “Hey, Mom. It's me, Sammy. I graduate eighth grade this year. Wish you could be there, but I know you will no matter what. You're always here with us, I can feel it. I met this girl in my science class. Her name's Jessica. You would like her. She kind of reminds me of you. Caring, happy, energetic. She's blonde too. I wish I had the chance to know you, but I love you no matter what. Maybe one day soon I can bring Jess to meet you. I really like her. I love you, Mom.” He repeated Jo's actions, kissing his fingers and pressing them to the gravestone.

 

Dean stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and wrapped an arm around Sams' shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Hey, Mom.” He picked up the angel with his free hand and stared down at it. For the first time in years, Dean took the time to actually look at the figurine, and saw each individual part of the angel, the colors standing out instead of blurring into a solid object to just hold. Pale blue eyes, brown hair, and wings the color of sand. If it weren't for the fact that the statue was made before either he or Cas was born, and the fact that it's not the exact colors, Dean would have sworn he was holding a miniature version of Cas. His arm unraveled from Sams' shoulders as the younger teen stood up. Dean kept his gaze on the statues' face, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He shifted his gaze to the head stone and touched it with the fingertips of his free hand. “I guess I really do have an angel looking after me, huh Mom?” He tugged at his throat and tried to clear it. “So, um, I guess, thanks? You know, for that advice you gave me a couple months ago. I appreciate it, Mom. I love you.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the stone, before standing up and joining the others.

 

Cas was the only one to stay in the same position the whole time there. He stood stock still, gaze in the direction of the granite. When Dean joined the group again, he wrapped his arms around Sam and Jo's shoulders, bringing them in for a three person hug. He looked over the two heads and saw Cas' tensed stance. “Hey, Cas. You alright, man?” he asked.

 

Cas looked up, finally breaking out of whatever trance he appeared to be in. He gave Dean a tight lipped, small smile and nodded slightly. Dean gave him a soft smile in return. The thing is, Cas didn't have to come today, even though he and Dean are dating. When he told Cas as much a week ago, Cas flat out refused not to join them. Just the thought of the memory made Deans' stomach flip. He jerked his head in the general direction of parking lot, indicating it was time to go.

 

Sam and Jo felt the head jerk above them and loosened the hug. The three started to walk in a comfortable silence, still wrapped up together. Deans' arms slung around their shoulders, with an arm each across Deans' back. He felt, rather than saw or heard, the lack of Cas' presence behind them. Dean stopped and looked behind him, only to feel his eyes widen and jaw slack. Cas was knelt in front of Mary's gravestone, out of hearing distance from them, with the angel statues rolling between his hands, similar to Deans' usual habit when he'd visit.

 

Cas finished talking to the gravestone a minute later, placed the statue back down carefully, then repeated Sam and Jo's gesture from earlier; fingers to the lips then pressed to the stone. He stood up and was met with three sets of shocked and astonished faces. He blushed sheepishly, a small smile graced his face. Three shocked faces turned into looks of acceptance. Cas met up with them, and the four of them headed back to the cars and back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo.... I hope I don't have too many angry readers right now. I know, I know, it's been almost two weeks since my last upload. I'm sorry... I've been at my dad's house for the past five days and nights and it literally took all five days to write most of the chapter. I kept getting stuck on some spots, or I had to do research. I actually forgot what a seniors' class schedule looked like. I'm pretty sure I ended up giving Dean my schedule from four years ago, for the most part at least.
> 
> Because of how unoriginal I am, the teachers mentioned in this chapter, and the future chapters as well, are actual teachers from my old high school. Mr. Leonard turned 17 last year, Mr. Merritt really did have to spend Halloween in the hospital when he was eightish... And Levitsky, as well as one of the history teachers, were the heartthrobs during my four years of high school.
> 
> I'm thinking about writing a short sub-chapter in regards to what Cas was saying to Mary. What do you think? A little one to two thousand word long speaking to the dead chapter?
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	14. I was never one to believe the hype

 "Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Glitters and their pet pussy," a voice sneered from behind Dean.

 

He turned around at the voice, and glared. Adam Milligan, a fellow football player, stood smugly behind Dean in the cafeteria. Hung on either arm were cheerleaders Ruby Cassidy and Bela Talbot. Ruby, a blonde hot head, and Bela, a British bitch, cackled at Milligans' jeer.

 

"What do you want, Milligan?" Dean growled.

 

It was the first day back after Halloween. Still hyped from the three day weekend, Dean and Cas' first block class were rowdy, which meant that Merritt was cranky. Instead of easing into the new class assignment, Merritt picked out the loudest student of the class to embarrass them. Apparently, one person not knowing the Emancipation Proclamation caused everyone in the class to have to stand at the podium, yes Merritt has a podium in his classroom, and embarrass themselves. Cas, the nerd that he is, was the only one to get half way through before messing up. So, yeah, Dean and Cas weren't in the best of moods.

 

Milligan lifted a hand to his chest, a mock hurt expression formed on his face. "Damn, Winchester. Is that any way to talk to the birthday boy?" he asked.

 

"And why, pray tell, should we care that it's your birthday?" Jo demanded.

 

"You better watch your girl, Winchester," he sneered.

 

Dean crossed his arms. "Fine. Let me reiterate. Why the hell should we care that it's your birthday, Milligan?" he growled.

 

Milligan glared at Dean. "Really, Winchester. I'm shocked. Is that any way to speak to your brother?"

 

Five shocked faces stared at the jock. "I'm sorry. What do you mean by brother?" Cas asked in his gravely voice, deeper than usual from the shock.

 

The jock sneered at Cas. "Oh. You mean to tell me that you don't know, Winchester?"

 

"What the hell are you talking about, Milligan?" Dean snapped.

 

"I'm talking about that fact that your daddy knocked my mother up before you were even thought of."

 

Dean stood angrily. His hands clenched at his sides, ready to throw a punch. "The hell do you mean!" he yelled.

 

Cas stood as well and grabbed his shirt sleeve. "Dean, you're making a scene," he whispered into Deans' ear.

 

"I don't care, Cas!" he snapped.

 

Milligan chuckled darkly. "Well, I really shouldn't be surprised. That bastard always was a stupid drunk."

 

It took the combined efforts of Jo and Cas to keep Dean from punching Adam in the face.

 

"You're lying!" he yelled. He lurched forward, but didn't get far. Jo was around the table and by Deans side by this point. She held his arm in a death grip, while Cas used his strength by placing his hand on the taller mans chest and pushing back.

 

Milligan chuckled again. “What ever gets you through the night, Winchester. The truth stands, though. Your daddy is my daddy.” With that, he and the cheerleaders left Dean to stew in his fumes.

 

Cas absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles in Deans' back. Dean took a few calming breaths, turned around, and grabbed his food, no longer hungry. Cas and Jo followed his lead, and the food was thrown in the trashed just as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The rest of the day proceeded rather uneventfully, with the exception of a pop quiz in Hudocks' class. The rest of the week was much the same. Every study hall Dean studied the Exclamation Proclamation, to the point that he would recite it on the way to and from school instead of listening to music. If it were anyone else in the passenger seat of the Impala, they would have been annoyed. Since it was Sam, however, he couldn't help but notice the proud glint in his brothers' eyes.

 

Dean pushed the confrontation with Milligan to the back of his mind. He knew his father was a worthless piece of shit, he didn't need another person reminding him. If anything, he would feel sorry for having this one thing in common with the boy if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't stand him. It became an anonymous agreement among the three teenagers not to bring it up again. If Sammy didn't know that their dad was an even bigger scumbag than before, than that was a plus in Deans' book.

 

Saturday was upon them once again, meaning that there was yet another football game to be played. Despite the unexplained tension between Milligan and Dean during practice that week, the team still managed yet another win.

 

The days went by and before anyone knew it, it was the day before Thanksgiving. After a tedious morning, full of student council elections and Dean and Cas confidently reciting Lincolns' speech, the trio found themselves in the cafeteria yet again.

 

“So what's the deal with your dad, Dean?” Jo asked.

 

Deans' face contorted to one of thoughtful confusion. “I don't know. He's been acting weird since, well, since about two and a half weeks ago.”

 

This, in fact, was true. It seemed to Dean that, ever since Milligans' proclaimed brother status, John Winchester had slowed down on the drinking. He still wasn't around as often as he should have, but he was no longer drunk off his ass at any given moment. In fact, when John wasn't at work or at a bar, he was elsewhere. No one knew where he went, not even Bobby or Ellen.

 

“Wasn't that..?” Cas broke off. The three of them shared a look. Yes, they all knew what two and a half weeks ago was.

 

“Do you think...” Jo inquired.

 

“Nah. Can't be. Can it?” Dean asked.

 

They shared another look. After a moment of silence, Jo waved her hand in dismissal. “Who cares. The big question is, what are we doing on Friday?”

 

“Friday?” Cas asked.

 

“Yeah, man! Black Friday! Everything is practically free.” He poked Cas' side with his elbow. “What do you want for Christmas, Cas?” Dean asked. Honestly, he already knew what he was getting Cas for Christmas. He had been saving more money than usual since school started to ensure he had enough to get Cas a present. He decided on what to give Cas a few weeks ago, after seeing the blue eyed man in front of his mothers' grave. What he really wanted to know was what to get his boyfriend for his birthday.

 

“Well...”

 

“Yeah?” Jo pushed.

 

“I've always wanted a guitar. Gabriel use to have one when we were younger and he taught me a few cords. I'm probably rusty, but I would love one.”

 

Dean glared at Jo. “No,” he said.

 

She held her hands up in surrender. “No, what?” she asked.

 

“If anyone is getting him a guitar, it's me. Understood?”

 

“And why must it be you who gets the guitar for him?” she shot back.

 

“Because.”

 

“Because?” Cas questioned curiously.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously I'm the only one with a job. I'd have the best chance of getting it.”

 

Jo nodded thoughtfully. “This is true,” she said. Just then, the bell rang, cutting off their conversation.

 

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Levitsky requested that during the four day weekend everyone think about their sex ed projects. Hudock allowed everyone to basically have a free period, in which case Dean and Cas discussed plans for the following days off. When school let out at two thirty that day, the school buzzed with electrified excitement. Dean waved Jo and Cas off, with promises to see them later at Ellens', and headed to football practice.

 

In honor of the holiday, Coach Armstrong decided to cancel practice and have a short team meeting instead. A half hour later, Dean found himself in his baby and on his way to pick Sam and Jess up from the middle school.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The smell of turkey woke Dean early the next morning. Grumbling, he rolled over to look at the time on the alarm clock. It was only seven forty five in the morning. He rubbed the sleep out of his face before sitting up. The game didn't start for another two hours, and he didn't have to be at the field for another hour and a half. Sighing, he pulled the comforter off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

 

“Dean?” Cas mumbled in his sleep. He rolled over and reached for the warm, now empty, space beside him.

 

Dean bent down and kissed his boyfriends' forehead. “Shh. Go back to sleep, Angel. It's still early.” He was greeted with a soft snore as a response. Still seated on the edge of the bed, Dean stretched his back. After releasing a yawn he tried to hold back, he stood up and walked to his duffel, almost tripping in the process.

 

“Cas and his stupid towels,” he grumbled under his breath.

 

All major holidays were spent at the Harvelles' house. So, to Dean and Cas' delight, that meant the Winchester boys spent the previous night with Ellen, Jo, and Cas.

 

Dean made his way downstairs, hoping to wake his still sleepy body up. Ellen was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands.

 

“Good morning, Aunt Ellen,” Dean greeted through yet another yawn.

 

Ellen nodded her head in his direction. “Dean,” she greeted. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter and took a sip. Ellen asked, “What are you doing up so early?”

 

He sent a cocky grin her way. “The smell of your amazing cooking woke me up,” he answered cheekily.

 

She huffed out a laugh. “Of course it did.” They smiled contently at each other, sipping on their drinks periodically. After he drained his cup so that only the dregs remained, he washed it in the sink (because he's the most awesome nephew ever) and hugged Ellen from behind. She patted his hand as her way of returning the hug. “Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what's with the random hug?” she asked, cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

 

He leaned down and gave her a peck on the temple before releasing her. “You and Bobby do so much for Sam and I, and I don't give you the thanks that you deserve.” He shrugged. “Honestly, if it weren't for you two, we'd probably be dead.”

 

“I hate to have to agree with you on that.” She stood and washed her own cup.

 

Dean stared at her. Jo's question from the day before at the forefront of his mind. “Hey, Aunt Ellen? You mind if I ask you a question?”

 

She tapped the back of his head lightly. “You just did, boy. But I'll let you have one more before I send you back upstairs.”

 

He nodded. “Is it just me, or have you and Bobby also notice my dad acting differently?” he asked.

 

Ellens' face scrunched up in thought. “You know what?” she said, waving a wooden spoon in Deans' direction, “I don't know about Bobby, but I have noticed. It started about two and a half weeks ago, I think.” She paused for a moment, reconsidering her words and double checking her memories. “Yeah, two and a half weeks.”

 

Dean nodded his head in acknowledgment. With a small wave, he left and headed back upstairs.

 

_**So great. He knows that Adam is his son. Who cares?**_

 

_You do!_

 

_**Why would I care?** _

 

_Because he's making an effort with the douche bag!_

 

Dean walked into his and Cas' bedroom, seething. Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing and hands clasped. The nervous way he held himself had Deans' anger fading rapidly. He seated himself behind his boyfriend and held him, head buried in the crook of Cas' neck and legs spread on either side of Cas' body.

 

He breathed in the scent of Cas. The pure, perfect combination of honey and rain cleared his mind, surrounding him. Cas was still fidgety. Dean felt the shaking and bouncing through the backwards hug. He lifted his head and looked at Cas' profile from the side.

 

Cas' teeth worried his bottom lip. Sad eyes, beneath long lashes, glazed over with nerves and, was that fear? His brow was set in a soft scowl, knee still bounced energetically, and his hands rubbed together.

 

“Cas?” Dean asked, a worried scowl set in place. Cas' throat bobbed as he gulped, jaw clenched tight. “Cas, what wrong?” he tried again. He brought his hand up and cradled the side of Cas' face, turning his head. He bent his head as he tried to lock his eyes on the worried blue ones in front of him.

 

Cas' eyes searched his face, and after a few moments he closed his eyes and sighed. “Dean. I, um...” he faltered.

 

“What is it, Cas?” he asked softly, as if trying not to scare Cas away.

 

Cas' eyes clenched tightly. “Well. I... I was thinking... about... maybe trying out for the cross country team,” he breathed out.

 

Dean felt the confusion on his face. “That's awesome man. But, what's the matter?” he asked.

 

Cas' jaw dropped and eyes snapped open in surprise. “You mean, you don't care?” he asked, disbelief evident on his face.

 

Deans' brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he cared. Anything that had to do with Cas was important to him. “What do you mean? Of course I care!” he said. At Cas' crestfallen face, Dean realized what Cas meant. “You thought I would be mad?” he asked carefully. “Cas? Angel?” His other hand went to Cas' face. Cradled on both sides, Dean brought Cas' lips up to his in a brief kiss. His thumb rubbed soft circles in the smooth skin of Cas' cheek. He pulled back. Their eyes met, full of emotion. “Why would I be mad if you joined a sports team?”

 

“I don't know. I guess,” he sighed. “I guess I was just afraid that if I did, you would blame me for taking away what little time we have with each other.”

 

“Never.” They kissed again, slightly longer than the first time, but still as chaste. “Besides,” he said, after pulling back. “I'll have an excuse to drive you home now and an excuse to ogle at you in public,” he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. This brought a chuckle out of Cas and earned him an affectionate smack on the arm. He kissed Cas' temple, unraveled himself, and climbed off the bed.

 

He got dressed, well aware of blue eyes watching him intently. Before he left the room, he bent down, for Cas was still on the bed, and kissed him. “I'll see you after the game, alright?” One last kiss to the forehead, and he was on his way to the Impala, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder to Ellen, Jo, and Sam as he passed the living room.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

“Alright team, here's the deal.” Coach Armstrong clapped his hands and stared the team down. “This is the Thanksgiving game. Now, I would usually be giving you some sort of inspirational speech to get you guys hyped up for the game, but seeing as we are currently undefeated, with much thanks to Winchester,” Milligan rolled his eyes, “it would seem almost pointless to do so. Instead, I would like you, as a whole, to take a moment and send a silent thank you to what ever being you believe in, for what ever it is you feel like being thankful for.”

 

The team took their moment of silence. Dean couldn't help but think about how Sammy was still alive and kicking, and about his angel, who was, without a doubt, in the stands now.

 

Another clap of the hands brought the football players out of their silent reveries. “Now, let's go win us a game!”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Despite how many times they have won already, the excitement of yet another win still felt like that first one. The locker room was loud with shouting. Energy surged through the players, causing many to jump around like baboons.

 

Dean was at his locker. He stuffed his pads into the confined space as a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “Man!” Henrickson bellowed. “That was some catch you made, Winchester!”

 

He chuckled. “Thanks, man. I can't take all the credit, though. If you hadn't tackled that guy behind me, we could have lost the game.”

 

“Bull! We haven't lost yet!” He was all but shouting to be heard over the rest of the team. “Anyway, what did you pray for before the game? Ya know, the whole 'what are you thankful for' thing that Coach had us do.”

 

“Ah, you know,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal, “the usual shit. Family, the people in my life I value, that type of shit.”

 

Henrickson nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, I know what you mean man.” A comfortable silence filled the air between them as both seniors were lost in their own minds. “Hey,” he said, suddenly, as a thought came to him. Dean looked his way, finally finished stuffing his gear in his locker. “I saw your dad out in the stands. How's the old man doing?”

 

Dean stiffened. Why the hell was John in the stands now, of all days? He's never been to any of Deans' games. Before he could answer, though, a voice from across the room cut in. “Yeah, Winchester, how is daddy dearest doing?”

 

His head snapped in the direction of the new voice. It was Milligan. A snarl escaped his lips before he had the knowledge of it building. “Fine,” he answered tersely. He didn't give Milligan or Henrickson time to comment. He grabbed his sports bag and pushed his way through the crowded locker room.

 

Outside, the cool November air greeted his flushed face. He took a moment to just breath. In and out. The tension from moments before gradually left his body as the wind swept passed him. He opened his eyes, unsure of when he actually closed them, and walked to his car. Jo's red Caprice was parked a few spaces away from his sleek Impala. Next to the Caprice stood Cas, along with everyone else. Dean hoped that Henrickson was wrong about John being there. But any hopes that he had were gone at the sight in front of him.

 

Dean paused, shocked at what he was seeing, which, really, in hindsight shouldn't have been that shocking. Cas was rigid, almost statue like, with his arms to his sides and his azure blue eyes murderous. On either side of him stood Jo and Sam, both trying to calm him down with whispered words. Ellen stood off to the side, arms crossed and eyes glaring. And in the center of it all was John and Bobby, faces inches apart as they yelled back and forth.

 

Dean hesitantly closed the distance. Ellen was the first to notice him and indicated that he shouldn't talk by pressing her fingers to her lips. He nodded slightly, just enough to let her know that, yes, he understood. John and Bobby were still having their yelling match, but Dean blocked them out, his concern and focus on Cas. Jo, after noticing her mothers' movements, saw him next. She tapped Sam on the shoulder. In silent agreement, they directed Cas away from the arguing so that the four could talk in silence.

 

After getting a few yards away from the grown-ups, Dean took another look at Cas. His body was vibrating, literally. His hands, though by his side, were clenched tight, nails almost biting into his palms to the point of bleeding. His jaw was clenched just as tightly as his fists, and if it weren't for the tightness of his jaw and the glossiness of his eyes from repressed tears, it would appear as if he was passive about what ever was going on.

 

Dean was angry. Actually, angry didn't cover the half of it. He was furious. Furious at John for finally coming to one of his games, yet not for him. Furious, because whatever he said upset Cas. Furious, because his father was the ultimate scumbag and he wished John were dead.

 

But he was also scared. Scared, because whatever was said affected Cas this way. Scared, because Cas looked like he could smite the next person to make a sound.

 

And yet, despite the fury and the fact that he was scared beyond belief, Dean was also worried. Worried, because Cas isn't supposed to look like this. He isn't supposed to look so broken. Not his Cas. Not his Angel.

 

Dean caught Cas' eyes, green latching onto blue. Tentatively, Dean opened his mouth. “You ok, Cas?” he whispered. After a few moments of silence, Dean shifted his gaze to Jo. “What the hell happened?” he asked, yet again whispering.

 

“Dad,” Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes, regardless of how insensitive it was considering the current situation.

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” he said. “The hell did he do?”

 

“Well, we were honestly surprised he was here to begin with,” Jo answered. They shared a look, because they both knew, somehow, why John was here.

 

“You and me, both,” Dean grumbled.

 

“Anyway,” Sam continued. “We didn't know that he was here. After the game finished and we got to the parking lot, Cas said that he had something he wanted to tell us.”

 

“So, of course, we told him that no matter what it was we would support him,” Jo continued.

 

“What was it?” Dean asked.

 

“I told them that I was going to join the track team,” Cas said, speaking for the first time. Deans' eyes met his again. The look in those blue orbs told more than words could say. Dean flashed back to that morning. How nervous Cas was when he got back to the room. How frightened he was that Dean would be mad. And he knew. He knew that all Cas wanted was his approval before making a final decision.

 

He cleared his throat. “How does dad fit into this story?” he asked, rather afraid of the answer.

 

“Well,” Sam began.

 

“Like we sad before, we didn't know he was here,” Jo continued.

 

“And he happened to be behind all of us as Cas was speaking.”

 

“And, well, he said some nasty things,” Jo finished.

 

He closed his eyes, almost regretting the next question on his tongue. “What did he say?” Dean asked in a quiet voice.

 

Cas answered again. “He said that only girls and gay men did track. That track wasn't a real sport. And that his sons would never be caught dead doing such a cocksucking thing,” he spat.

 

He opened his eyes and met Cas' again. “You know that's not true, right Cas?” He gulped. Because he was nervous. Because he doesn't want Cas to feel like he's less than he really is at the hands of John Winchester.

 

He sighed, because Cas didn't answer. Cas didn't even move a muscle. He rubbed his hand over his face and grabbed his hair in frustration. He took a deep breath, then said, “Look, Jo. Take Sam home when you leave. Cas, you're coming with me.” They didn't question it. Even though Sam and Jo didn't know how much of a relationship the two had, there was no denying that they were best friends, and if anyone could snap Cas out of his stupor, it was Dean.

 

He made his way back to the Impala, hoping Cas was following him. After throwing his bag in the backseat, he slid behind the steering wheel and was relieved to find Cas doing the same next to him.

 

Dean didn't know how long they drove. He didn't know where he was driving. The ride was quiet, the radio off the whole way. When he parked the car and looked around, he barely recognized where they were. He knew enough to know that they were on the outskirts of town, on a dirt road somewhere unimportant.

 

The car was off. The silence was uncomfortable. He huffed out another sigh. Cas didn't want to talk, he knew that. He wasn't one for chick-flick or touchy-feely moments, which made cracking through Cas' stupor harder than he would like. After a few minutes of silence, which drove Dean to the brinks of insanity, he turned the key slightly, just enough to be able to turn the stereo on.

 

The song that played was rather popular. Dean, though he would deny knowing any sort of touchy-feely, romantic type of music, actually liked this particular song. He hummed along with the tune, a watchful eye on Cas the whole time. Still no change of posture or reaction. Once the song got to the chorus, however, Dean couldn't help but sing along. “If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand. Why I feel this way about our love, and what I must do. If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says. When she says she loves me.” He nudged Cas in the side, because seriously, this song was perfect for them.

 

To Deans' relief, Cas' lips twitched slightly, but enough to be noticed. A small smile graced his own lips. They listened to the rest of the song, Dean singing off key on purpose. As the last of the notes faded, Dean noticed that Cas was more relaxed. He was still stiff, but more in a cautious sort of way. His face still set in a scowl, but his eyes held more emotion. Amusement being one of them.

 

He turned the radio off. “When in doubt,” he said, pulling the keys out of the ignition, “music.” He pocketed the keys, then slid closer to Cas. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, leaning the head of dark, unruly hair on his shoulder. His fingers carded through the soft strands. Cas sighed and leaned into the touch. “Don't listen to anything that asshole says, Angel. He's a closed-minded prick and we both know it.”

 

Cas sighed again. “I know, Dean. I just...” He shimmied out of Deans' hold and tugged at his hair in frustration. “I'm just... I'm...” He groaned into his hands.

 

“You're just scared,” Dean guessed.

 

Cas nodded in agreement. Dean pulled him back into a half hug. “Cas.” He sighed. “Look. No matter what happens, I'm here for you, ok?” he asked.

 

Cas looked up and blinked his eyes, a look of wonder on his face. He nodded his head before he snuggled into Deans' warm embrace.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

They stayed like that, snuggled on the front seat of the Impala, for what felt like an eternity. Really, it was only a half hour before Dean started his baby up again and drove them to Ellen's.

 

It was still fairly early when they got back to the house. Despite the time, though, they only had to wait a half hour until dinner was ready. To pass the time, Dean, Jo, Cas, and Sam set the table and helped with whatever Ellen needed them to do. Bobby arrived minutes before the turkey made it to the table, with two of Ellen's pies, still slightly warm, in hand.

 

It was finally time to eat Thanksgiving dinner. Starting with Bobby, everyone said something they were thankful for. Dean was last, and once again he said thanks for all the people in his life, or in other words, everyone seated at the table at that precise moment. Dinner itself was a relatively happy affair, what with everyone skirting around the events of that morning as if it were the plague. In Deans' book, it might as well have been.

 

You would think one rocky part of the day would be enough for this small, broken family. Fate, as it would seem, had other plans.

 

Dinner had just finished up, the pies just taken out of the oven (after being heated up on low for the past five minutes), and stomachs were mostly full. Dean and Cas were helping Ellen with the transportation of food between rooms when the doorbell rang. Ellen dried her hands on a dishtowel, she was attempting to wash a few of the small dishes, and wordlessly ordered the two teenagers to take the pies and necessary dishes to the table.

 

The pies were set on the table, one on each end, and small plates were placed in front of everyone by the time Ellen reentered the room. However, and to everyone's surprise and annoyance, Ellen was not alone. Trailing behind her were John, Adam, and a blonde no one knew.

 

Ellen remained standing, arms crossed in front of her and one eyebrow cocked. In fact, Bobby actually stood. The four teenagers remained seated, tensed. This couldn't end well.

 

“You want to repeat what you just told me, John?” Ellen asked, the slightest sliver of anger seeping through her voice.

 

John glared at her. Behind him, the unknown blonde stood uncertainly to his side. Adam sneered at Dean, Cas, and Jo.

 

Silence passed through the group. No one spoke, John too stubborn to feel the need to repeat himself. Finally, Bobby spoke. “You mind telling me why Kate Milligan and some boy is standing in this house?” he barked.

 

Dean felt like he was just doused with ice water. His body went cold, rigid. So this is Milligans' mom. Cold fury burned through his eyes. He didn't need to look around to know that Jo and Cas wore similar expressions.

 

“Fine,” Ellen spat out. “You want to know why they're here?”

 

“I sure as hell do!” Bobby demanded.

 

Dean, Cas, and Jo were too pissed to make a sound, let alone speak. Dean furtively glanced at Sam. His heart broke at the sight. Poor, Sammy. Young, confused Sammy.

 

Silence passed them once again. “Last chance to tell everyone yourself, John,” Ellen said. She was met with more silence. Her brow was no longer cocked. She was full on glaring. “Apparently, the past two and a half weeks, John has been hanging out with Kate here and her son.”

 

“Why?” Sam asked in a quiet voice, shifting his gaze between Ellen, Bobby, then back to John.

 

Milligan turned his sneer towards Sam now. A growl escaped Cas' throat.

 

“Adam here turned eighteen the day he started hanging out with them. You dare walk into this house? On Thanksgiving, of all days! With the _bitch_ you cheated on Mary with and her bastard son?” Ellen was all but screaming.

 

“Dad?” Sams' lip quivered. Tears built in his eyes. He was only thirteen, for Christ sakes!

 

“What's up, _Sammy_?” Adam sneered.

 

Sams' face hardened. “It's Sam!” he snapped.

 

Dean chanced a look in Bobby's direction. The old man had been dangerously quiet. He was not surprised in the least to see the crimson face of the man he considered his father.

 

“You find out you have an older son by two months,” he began, way to quietly in Deans' opinion, “and you stop drinking as much, you make time for him, and you go to a fucking football game because of him, yet you CAN'T DO THAT FOR THE CHILDREN WHO HAVE BEEN IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE PAST EIGHTEEN YEARS!” He paused to catch his breath. “What the HELL is wrong with you?”

 

Dean glanced back to his dad, judging his reaction. John had the nerve to look pissed. His face started turning red, his brow curved down in a scowl.

 

“John, just... get out,” Ellen breathed out, arm outstretched in the general direction of the front door.

 

John turned around, about face military style, and stormed out the house. The blonde, Kate Bobby called her, sulkily followed behind. Adam was the last to leave, with a 'see ya around, brothers'.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Nobody touched the pie. Sam was in a state of shock, unmoving and silent. Jo, she was vocal, berating a non-present John. She kept the curses to herself, grudgingly accepting the very colorful ones from Bobby and Ellens' mouths. Dean and Cas kept silent, yet unlike Sams', theirs wasn't from shock, but from anger and disbelief that John had the audacity to bring them into the only house they were willing to call home.

 

It was almost a half hour later when Bobby and Ellen calmed down enough to deal with the situation at hand. Bobby opted to grab the pies and move them to the kitchen where he, most likely, started putting food away. Ellen was in a corner of the room with Jo, talking quietly amongst themselves. Ten minutes into the three vocal tirades, Sam came to his senses enough to move closer to Dean and Cas. The three of them were still huddled together twenty minutes later, providing and receiving comfort from one another in silence.

 

Dean felt a tap on his shoulder. Sam was seated on his lap, Cas next to him rubbing circles into the younger boys back in a soothing manner. He lifted his head to see who was intruding on their tiny pity party. Jo, with her long blonde hair knotted from multiple frustrated hand tangling, stood behind them with a soft, sympathetic smile on her lips. She nodded her head towards the living room. Dean stood and carried Sam, who was still smaller and lighter than him, to the living room couch, Cas and Jo trailing behind.

 

Dean didn't have the faintest idea what Jo had planned. He assumed it had to do with whatever she and Ellen were talking about. He sat down next to Sam and laid his little brothers' head in his lap. Cas sat next to him and carded his fingers through Sams' mane. Meanwhile, Jo was crouched in front of the tv stand. Dean watched as her fingers skimmed across the binds of the VHS covers. Out of his sight, her finger stopped on the movie she was looking for. He knew this because a moment later she was standing up with the movie in hand and walked to the VCR. After turning all the required devices on and slipping the movie in the slot, Jo sat down. The opening credits of 'Batman Forever' popped on the screen.

 

Dean sent a raised eyebrow Jo's way. “Really, Jo?” he asked.

 

She shrugged. “It seemed fitting. You're Batman, Sam is Robin, and John is two face.”

 

“So who are you and Cas?” he asked.

 

She furrowed her brow. “One of us is the joker just because it's Jim Carey, and the other is Doctor Chase.”

 

“You're more like the joker.”

 

“Aww,” she cooed. “Does that mean that Cas is your sexy psychologist?” she smirked and wiggled her eyes.

 

Dean found a couch pillow and threw it at her. “Shut up. I thought we were referring to characteristics.”

 

She laughed. “I was just kidding, Dean. Anyway, shhh. Movies' starting.”

 

They sat there and watched the movie. Cas, somehow not having seen _any_ Batman movie before, commentated the whole thing. “There shouldn't have been that much acid.” “Logically, he should have died after jumping in the water, since they're at the statue of liberty.” “Wait, is Gotham City New York City?” “You can tell as soon as Jim Carey is shown that he's going to be a bad guy.” (that comment was followed with a roll of blue eyes.) “You have to admit. The way he gets into the Batcave is pretty epic.” - “Fine. Yes. It's rather 'cool'.” “Seriously, Dean? This is like a bad porno!” - “Cas, shhh. There are virgin ears here!” - “Hey! I'm not that stupid Dean!” - “Whatever, Sammy.” - “Sammy is a chubby twelve year old.” - “Dude, you're thirteen!” “You actually can't break down a door like that.” Dean- “Doll thingy reminds me of two face.” Jo- “Like, oh my God! A doctor!” “So, tell me again. How are you Batman and Sam Robin?” - “I'm the older and more handsome one. And we're both practically parent-less.” “This movie is completely melodramatic, Dean.” - “Shh, Cas.” “It was obvious his cape would be fireproof.” - “Cas, do you have to comment on everything?” “Really? Did they have to show the close up of his ass?” - “Wow, Cas. Coming from you, I'm shocked.” - “Just because I'm gay, Jo, it doesn't mean I want to stare at every guys' ass.” “Have you noticed? Jim Carey constantly has a boner when he's in his one suits.” - “Cas! Virgin ears!” - “I'm not a baby, Dean!” - “Wait, so you don't mind staring at JC's thing, but Val Kilmers' ass bothers you?” “I swear, every time they kiss it's like porn!” - “But you like it!” - “No, Jo. It actually makes me want to vomit.”

 

They sat there as the credits rolled up the screen. Cas' commentary, though unexpected, lightened the atmosphere around them immensely. After the first credits song ended, Dean started humming the next song. It was one of the best parts of the movie, this song. Still, Dean would deny knowing this song, despite the fact that he was sure Cas could feel the vibrations from the humming.

 

There was one part of the song that Dean loved the most. He listened to the words, humming along and patiently waiting for his favorite part. “ _The more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. And now that your rose is in bloom. A light hits the gloom on the gray._ ” Now it was his favorite part. Quietly, he started whispering the next set of lyrics. “There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain! BABY!” Jo, Sam, and Cas jumped, not expecting Dean to yell even if it went with the song. He stopped singing after that, too sheepish to continue and embarrassed at being caught singing such a girly song. “ _To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny. Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby? But did you know, that when it snows, my eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen._ ”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Even if it weren't still part of a holiday, and yes, they count Black Friday as a holiday, there was no way Ellen was allowing them to go back to their house that night. Not after what John pulled.

 

The four teenagers found themselves in bed by nine that night. Dean and Cas were curled into each other, hands clasped and legs entwined. Deans' clothes for the next morning were folded in Cas' desk chair.

 

They fell asleep without effort, both drained from the events of the day.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean woke himself up at three the next morning. He gently climbed out of bed as to not wake Cas up. As convenient as is may seem, he was excited to know that Cas wanted a guitar as a gift. Why is it convenient? There was this small music store about a half hour drive away that Dean found one day last year. His plan was to get there early and hope for a good deal. Of course, he would have to hide the instrument for the most part of five months, but it couldn't be that hard, right?

 

After changing, quietly, and sneaking downstairs, quietly, Dean made it to the Impala. He turned the ignition and wished, for once, that his baby didn't purr so loud. Shifting it into drive, Dean pulled away from the house in a rush. He didn't want to get caught by anyone, especially not Jo.

 

The best part about living in such a small town was the lack of traffic jams, even at three thirty in the morning on Black Friday. By four he was pulling into the small parking lot of the music shop. There was a small line waiting outside of it when he got out.

 

The worst part about living in such a small town, was that small shops such as this one didn't open until five on Black Friday. Dean would rather wait outside in the cold November air than be late to the shop and miss out on a potential present.

 

Four turned to five and before Dean knew it, the doors were opening. During that hour of waiting the line got slightly longer. Dean waltz through the doors and headed straight to the guitar section. He figured an acoustic was the best option for a beginner, and after looking at the various range in prices, he found on that was reasonably priced and perfect. He grabbed it off the stand and walked to the front counter.

 

The attendant at the cash register looked equal parts bored and tired. Dean could sympathize. His head perked up when Dean was merely feet away.

 

“Ah. That beauty!” He smiled fondly.

 

“So this is a good one?” Dean asked uncertain.

 

“This is an excellent one!”

 

An idea came to Dean. “Would...” He cleared his throat. “Would I be able to get something, like a name, painted onto it?”

 

The guy chuckled. “Yeah. It'll be an extra fifteen bucks, but yeah, I could hook you up.”

 

Relief passed through Dean. They spent the next twenty minutes going over care instructions and by the time Dean exited the shop, he was two hundred dollars poorer. He opened the trunk and carefully placed the blue plated guitar with the word 'Angel' written in white cursive along the curve, which was snugly encased in the traveling bag, along with appropriate care kit, on the floor.

 

One present down, five to go.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with the exception of Jo smacking him when he finally got back to the house, but he was expecting it. They spent the rest of their weekend hanging out with each other and, on occasion, doing homework.

 

By Monday morning, none of them wanted to get up for school, not even Sam. They did manage to get to school on time, despite what their prefer motives were.

 

It wasn't until lunch time when the day got interesting. Dean wasn't too worried about the class elections. Honestly, he couldn't give a shit about who won and who lost and blah blah blah. Which is why, when his name was called out as class president, he dropped his fork, much to the amusement of Cas and Jo. He heard quite a few cat calls and congratulations from around the cafeteria.

 

Jo's smirk grew wider when the principal announced that the vice president was Cas. Cas, like Dean, dropped his fork and drink and fell and it was quite comical.

 

So Dean and Cas were president and vice president and things seriously got interesting.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Practice for the track team started the following week. The last football game of the season was that Saturday. Dean had never wanted practice to get over so quickly. Everyday that week the football team would enter the gymnasium and walk along the edges.

 

Dean pretended not to notice the runners doing sprints back and forth across the floor, but in reality he enjoyed the view. Cas finished his set and tapped the next sprinter in. His shirt stuck to him, sweat soaked, and his chest heaved up and down in desperate attempt to get the much needed oxygen in the air.

 

As they walked passed the two lanes of people, Dean couldn't resist separating himself from his fellow team members. He sneaked up behind his sweaty boyfriend and poked his sides, making him squeal. Dean doubled over in laughter, tears streamed down his face.

 

“That was not funny, Dean!” Cas bellowed. When Dean calmed his laughter enough to stand up, he was greeted with hard smack on the back of his head.

 

He grinned amusingly, still stifling back his chuckles. He heard his name from the locker room door and walked backwards, eyes still on his disheveled angel. He mouthed the words 'I'll meet you outside', winked, then turned around just in time to not run into the wall.

 

The track team entered the locker room right as Dean was exiting. He nudged Cas' shoulder playfully on his way pass. He didn't wait long for Cas to get changed and get to the Impala.

 

Dean drove them half way to Ellen's house before turning off to a side road. Cas gave him a quizzical look when Dean turned the Impala off.

 

Before Cas could question anything, Dean unfastened his seat belt and had his lips on the other mans.

 

“God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he said. Cas cocked an eyebrow. “You have no idea how sexy you looked in the gym. All sweaty and breathing hard.” Cas blushed. They locked eyes. Deans' smile calmed to a softness only reserved for Cas. Not even Sam got this smile out of him. He carded his fingers through Cas' sweat damped hair. Cas closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Hey, Cas?” Dean whispered. Cas 'hmm'ed in response. “I know we never really say it,” he began. Cas' brows furrowed in confusion. “But, uh. I really like you, ya know?” Blue eyes opened slowly. A soft smile graced the other mans lips.

 

“I really like you too, Dean,” he whispered back.

 

They shared another soft kiss before Dean pulled away and seated himself behind the steering wheel. He dropped Cas off at Ellen's, then drove home. He flopped back on his bed, homework the last thing on his mind.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

December 14th was a day to remember for many reasons.

 

For starters, it was Cas' first indoor track meet of the season, and Dean couldn't go. And god, how he wished he could go.

 

Cas received the track meet schedule on the first Wednesday practice of the season. Dean was the second person to view it, after Cas of course. They didn't know who was more excited about it, Dean or Cas. Perhaps it was an even tie. Regardless, Dean realized the conflict almost at once.

 

Cas' first track meet was the same day as the first conference football game. With Lawrence high being undefeated all season, they were guaranteed the top spot in the conference playoffs. Everyone knew that they would be able continue their winning streak to win the conference for the first time in nearly ten years. Nobody knew that Dean Winchester had other plans.

 

Just like college and professional football, once you get passed regular season, it's all hands on deck. The first time you lost, you were out. It didn't matter how well you played before hand.

 

Dean knew this. He also knew that he would rather watch Cas run faster than everyone else, even if it was just in circles.

 

So yes, December 14th was a day to remember. For Dean, it was the one and only track meet that he would miss of Cas'. For everyone else, it was the day Dean Winchester lost his magic fingers and feet. He dropped the ball every time it touched his hands. He purposely fumbled the ball when he did manage to catch it. And if it weren't either of those, then he deliberately slowed down just before he got to the ball, causing an incomplete pass.

 

The first game of the high school conference was the first game Lawrence high lost that year.

 

Dean should have felt ashamed, regretful, dirty. But the only emotions he could manage were happiness, excitement, freedom.

 

December 14th was a day to remember. For everyone in Lawrence, Kansas, it was a day of remorse. For Dean Winchester and Castiel Milton, it was a day of celebration.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'm really sorry for how long it took to get this up. I actually kind of like this one better than the previous chapter, but that's my opinion and ya'll probably will think differently. I'm including a link to show you what Cas' guitar looks like, minus the word 'Angel'. So, uh, let me know what ya'll think?
> 
> http://i00.i.aliimg.com/wsphoto/v0/795082166/41-big-piano-box-quality-acoustic-guitar-blue-panel-font-b-belt-b-font-font-b.jpg


	15. Save that for the black and white (part1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so so so SO very sorry for how long this took to get up! I'm not even finished the chapter. So I decided to cut it off around half way (maybe just under half actually) just so that I can get something up to you guys! And then, hopefully, the second part of this chapter will be up by Friday. Hopefully. Maybe Saturday. I'm not sure. Also, I started working last Monday, so that is part of the reason why this has taken so long to get put up. With my first paycheck I'm hoping to get a laptop so that when I have an idea I can quickly type it out. Main reason for this taking so long is because writers block is a bitch and the words just didn't want to flow for me. Let me know what ya'll think. Like I said, next art will hopefully be up soon!

It was still December 14th. The town was mourning the lost of the game. No one but the Harvelle/Winchester/Singer family cared about the track meet.

 

After the end of the game, Dean met up with his family outside the school. After all the stress of the past three and a half months, he was finally free. Free of plays. Free of annoying teammates. And free of his douche of a half brother.

 

It was while he was outside, being 'comforted' from his family for the lost and congratulating Cas for his win, that he realized it was December 14th. He was walking at the time his brain caught up with the date, so naturally, he stopped mid-stride to the confused glances of his family.

 

It was December 14th. The last time he visited his mothers grave was two days after Halloween. He would have hit himself, if only he weren't in public. He quickly walked to the Impala, throwing over his shoulder to Jo to take Sam with her, and drove off.

 

The ride to the cemetery passed in a blur. Within minutes he was kneeling in front of Mary's tombstone.

 

“Hey, Mom.” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “Um, happy belated birthday?” he said half sheepish, half guilty. “So I know that I'm late, like majorly late, getting here. Sorry. I know, I know.” He held up his hands in defense. “Sorry doesn't cut it. But it's not my fault! Not really at least!”

 

He sighed. Would it be pointless to tell her about Adam and Kate? Wouldn't she already know?

 

A moment passed in silence. He knelt there, on the cold, hard ground. Harsh December wind whipped his face while he contemplated saying anything.

 

“Ok, so I know you probably already know about this, and you're probably rolling around down there... up there?” He shook his head. “Never mind. You know what I mean.” He sighed again. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. He took a deep, steadying breath. “I found out last month that I have another brother, Mom.” He paused. His eyes stung with unwelcome tears. He blinked them back.

 

He sighed again. In the back of his mind was a nagging feeling that he would be doing a lot of that this visit.

 

“Mom.” A tear slid passed his eye. “Dad cheated on you.” The words caught in his throat. He cleared it before speaking again, though the words still struggled to get out. “He still treats us like shit, Mom. And yet _Adam_ ,” he spat the name out, a foul taste lingered on his tongue, “gets treated like fucking royalty.”

 

He scrunched his face up. Tears fell freely, no longer being held back. One hand came up to his face, wiping the wetness away. The other reached out for the angel statue. He clenched his hand around it. The coolness of the porcelain sent a chill up his arm, yet the heat of his skin warmed it up, despite the chilly weather. The angel, so similar to his own at home, acted like an anchor. He sighed and squeezed it again.

 

His eyes, which were squeezed shut, blinked open. Pale blue eyes stared up at him. A soft smile slowly formed on his face.

 

“Cas joined the track team,” he said. “His first meet was today.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “He won. I wish I could have seen it. Wish I could have seen him.” He sighed softly this time. Thinking about Cas warmed his chest. His eyes glazed over as an image of a sweaty Cas running ahead of other faceless people formed in his mind. “I've never felt like this before.” He paused. A moment later, “I think I love him, Mom. But I don't know what love feels like. At least not this type.” He stared down at the angel still in his hand. Instead of the pale blue he was expecting, electric blue stared up at him. The light brown hair turned into messy dark brown. The soft closed mouth smile was instead a wide, full mouth and teeth baring grin. Soft crows feet formed around the wide eyes.

 

Dean didn't realize how hard he was smiling until his face was hurting from it. His body hummed with the warmth thinking of Cas caused. He looked at the gravestone again. Fresh tears slid down his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I love him, Mom.” He placed the statue on the gravestone again. “I promise my next visit will be on time.” He leaned forward and kissed Mary's name before standing up and walking to the exit.

 

He didn't notice John standing ten yards away, anger and disgust clear as day on his face and in his eyes.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean pulled into the Roadhouse's parking lot ten minutes later. Even though the football team lost, there was still reason to celebrate. Since no one else was celebrating, however, the lot was nearly empty. High schoolers were probably at some house party, drinking away their misery.

 

Dean found their table easily enough. Everyone was there; Cas, Sam, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. What he was expecting was for everyone to be sitting and having a good time. What he witness, though, was Ellen and Jo in Roadhouse uniform while his surrogate father, little brother, and angel sat at a small table with an empty chair.

 

“Since when did Jo work here,” he said in way of greeting.

 

“Since you made it obvious that you were the only one working, dipshit,” Jo retorted.

 

“Joanna Beth Harvelle!” Ellen scolded, smacking Jo upside the head. “Language!”

 

Jo glared at Dean before hanging her head in defeat. Rules of the house and rules of the Roadhouse were the same. No yelling and no cursing.

 

Dean held back a chuckle, just barely.

 

He joined the table, sitting down next to Cas, while Jo took orders. She didn't bother taking his.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The night went on with chatter and laughter. Every time he looked at Cas, that warm feeling came back, hotter than ever before.

 

About an hour into their dinner, Jo's laughter from a few tables down caught Deans' attention. She was talking to a fellow high schooler. The kid looked rather familiar, but he couldn't place where he's seen him before.

 

A nudge in Cas' side with his elbow got the blue eyed boys' attention. He quirked an eyebrow. “What?” he whispered.

 

“Who's the kid Jo is talking to?” Dean asked, just as quietly.

 

Cas directed his attention to the table Jo was currently at. His brows furrowed in confusion. “You mean Alfie Johnston?” he asked.

 

Deans' eyebrows rose in surprise. “You know the kid?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Cas said. “He's a junior on the track team.”

 

The memory came back to Dean. The day he spooked Cas in the gym. It was just after he tagged someone to sprint. The other student became clearer. Alfie was the kid he tagged.

 

Jo laughed again. A private smirk formed on his face. Jo was finally interested in someone.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Deans' hours at the garage picked up. With the lack of football practice, he had more free time to work. Everyday after school he would head over to Bobby's, work until break, pick Cas up from practice, then finish the next three hours before heading home to do homework. Jo would pick Sam up after school and take him to Bobby's before heading to her own shift. On the weekends, if there wasn't a track meet at least, Dean would work from eight to four, patiently waiting for the day he would turn 18 and be able to work overtime.

 

Cas' next track meet was a week after his first. Dean finally got to see his angel in action. When Cas crossed the finish line first, it was hard to hold back his pride.

 

In celebration of Cas' second win, Ellen allowed Dean and Sam to spend the night. It was while Dean and Cas were laying down for bed that Dean realized he may not be able to do what he wanted for Cas' Christmas present. Not everyone likes needles after all.

 

They were laying under the covers, curled into each other to ward off the cold, when Dean realized this.

 

He leaned over and tried to kiss Cas' nose, but missed and made contact with one of his eyes instead. It was dark and he couldn't see, give him a break.

 

“Ow, Dean. What the hell was that for?” he asked. Dean saw movement and assumed that Cas was now rubbing at his eye.

 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I was aiming for your nose.”

 

Cas' aim, as it would seem, was much better in the dark. His lips pressed slightly against Deans' before retreating.

 

Dean huffed. “You're such a tease, Angel.” he grumbled.

 

Cas was quiet for a moment. “Why do you call me 'angel'?” he asked, so quietly Dean almost missed it.

 

“You mean other than because of your name?” he asked, amusement clear in the sound of his voice.

 

“Well... yeah.”

 

Dean moved closer to Cas in the dark until the slightly shorter man was nothing more than a curled up ball wrapped in his embrace.

 

He kissed the top of Cas' head and buried his nose in the soft strands. The warm feeling came back. “Because you saved me,” he said into the hair. “You're like my saving grace.” He smirk. It's not everyday something that girly comes out of his mouth.

 

Cas huffed. “I'm no angel.”

 

He pulled away, trying his damnest to see in the dark. His hand reached under Cas' chin. Tilting his head up, Dean gave Cas a soft kiss. “And why is that?” he asked.

 

“Because I'm such a demon in bed,” he deadpanned.

 

Dean let out a bark of a laugh and nodded his head. He has had his fair share of sex, but nothing compared to sex with Castiel.

 

After he gained control of his laughter he asked, “but seriously, Cas. Why aren't you an angel?”

 

Cas sighed. “Because I don't have wings. An angel isn't an angel if they don't have wings.”

 

A tiny bubble of hope formed in Deans' chest. Maybe, just maybe, his Christmas present can really happen.

 

“Oh yeah? And how do you plan on fixing that?” he asked.

 

“Well, I assume I would have to get a tattoo.”

 

The bubble grew. “Would you oppose to getting a tattoo?”

 

He shook his head. “No. I wouldn't mind. I think I'd be able to handle the pain.”

 

The bubble burst. New warmth spread through his body. A smile spread wide on his face. His only response was to nod. “Bedtime now. Gotta get up early. Work in the morning.”

 

They slept peacefully that night.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The following Monday was Christmas Eve's Eve, otherwise known as December 23rd. It was also a half day. The high school was dismissed at twelve thirty that afternoon; middle school at one.

 

Dean waited in the schools' parking lot until Cas' short team meeting ended, then the two of them drove down the street to get Sam.

 

After dropping them off at Ellen's house, Dean went to the garage. It was only an extra hour of work than usual, but it was more money in his pocket, so he wasn't complaining.

 

With Christmas just two days away, everyone was excite and on edge at the same time. Dean especially, since he still had no idea if Cas would really like his present, despite the moment of hope a few nights previous.

 

All excitement in Dean drained once he arrived at Bobby's. John was just clocking out when Dean walked through the door. The tension in the room was so thick, you actually couldn't cut it with a knife. This was the first time since Thanksgiving that the two Winchesters were in the same room.

 

Thankfully, Bobby walked in a moment later, snapping the two men out of their glaring contest. The fact that Bobby was still able to be professional enough not to let his new found hatred to the older Winchester affect work caused a new rush of respect to run through Dean.

 

It was during Deans' first break, two hours into the shift, when Bobby brought it up.

 

Dean was sitting in the office, a cold soda can rolled between his hands, when Bobby walked in with a 'no attitude, this is how it's going to be' look. He sat down across from Dean, hands folded on the table and stared at Deans' head until he looked up.

 

“What's up, Bobby?” he asked. Unlike Ellen, Bobby didn't mind the older Winchester brother forgoing his 'Uncle' title and just calling him Bobby.

 

“You're not going to like this, kid.” He was still called 'kid' though.

 

Dean sat up straight, giving Bobby his full attention. He searched his surrogate fathers face, looking for any hint of what the old man was thinking. After finding nothing, he stayed quiet.

 

A moment of silence followed. Bobby sighed, gathering his strength for the oncoming argument that was sure to follow his next words. “I talked to your dad.”

 

Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What the ass have to say?” he asked.

 

“Let me just start by saying that nothing is definite yet. He hasn't made a decision.”

 

“What is it, Bobby?” he asked, annoyed.

 

“I guess Kate,” he swallowed thickly, a look of disgust on his face. “I guess she talked to him after the fiasco on Thanksgiving. He said that he feels bad about how he's been treating the other boy differently and wants to make up for it.”

 

“And you believe him?” A chill ran down Deans' back. Something didn't feel right.

 

“It seems odd, I'll give you that.”

 

Another moment of silence passed while both men sat in their thoughts.

 

Dean cleared his throat. “So how does the bastard intend to make everything right?” he asked, skeptically.

 

“Christmas isn't a definite. He said he'll probably spend that time with the Milligans'. _However_ ,” he continued sharply, cutting off the retort on Deans' tongue. “However, he said he wanted everyone to spend New Years Eve at the house. He'll bring Kate, but the boy will go out to a friends house or something.”

 

Dean huffed and leaned back in his chair, the soda forgotten on the table. He crossed his arms and glared at the wall. “I think it sounds sketchy.”

 

Bobby nodded in agreement. “I agree. I talked to Ellen about it.”

 

“Yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Yeah. She said that we should let it play out. See what happens.”

 

Deans' brows dropped. He felt numbed. None of this felt good. He shrugged a shoulder and got up.

 

There was nothing he could do on the matter.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

He got home late that night, after having to pick Sam up from Ellen's. There were still presents to be wrapped, so the two boys went their separate ways to their respective rooms.

 

Two hours later the living room was packed with multicolored boxes of various sizes. Opting to wait until morning to pack the Impala with the gifts, the two Winchester boys went to bed, excited to the days to come.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Christmas Eve night found Dean in bed with Cas, snuggled up together to keep warm despite the heat being on in the house.

 

Legs entangled, hands held tight, Dean thought nothing could be better than this. After confessing to Mary a few days before of his love for Cas, the warm feeling in his chest grew with each passing glance at the dark haired man laying next to him.

 

He snuggled closer, his nose nuzzled into the dark soft hair that laid atop his angels' head. Cas' chest rose and fell gently as he snored softly beside Dean.

 

The alarm clock next to the bed glowed red. The numbers indicated it was just after midnight.

 

He kissed Cas' temple, nuzzled his hair one last time, before allowing the soft breathes to lull him to sleep.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean and Cas were snuggled against each other when two heavy bodies jumped on top of them.

 

“WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE. UP!”

 

A heavy hand made contact with Deans' shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut. Next to him he felt Cas' body be shook awake.

 

“DEAN! CAS! WAKE UP! IT'S CHRISTMAS!” came the squeaky shout of Sam. The poor boys voice was doing all different things recently. The wonders of puberty.

 

Dean wiggled into a sitting position and hung his head in his hands. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes to the too bright light of the bedroom.

 

He growled. “Guys. Seriously? It's only,” he looked at the alarm clock next to him and growled again. “Guys! It's only six in the morning! WHAT THE HELL?” he shouted.

 

“What's going on?” Cas mumbled beside him, still half asleep and fighting the abrupt wake up call.

 

“Yeah, but!” Jo began.

 

“IT'S CHRISTMAS!” Sam squeaked again.

 

Cas finally opened his eyes and glared at the first person he saw, which happened to be Dean.

 

“Dude. Don't give me that look. I _wasn't_ the one to wake you.”

 

Jo and Sam looked at each other, and a moment later stood up simultaneously and began jumping on the bed.

 

“Fine!” Cas growled out. “We're getting up! Happy?”

 

Sam jumped up and again, folded his legs, and landed indian style on top of Cas. “YES!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air in triumph.

 

Jo jumped off the bed and started tugging on Deans' arm.

 

“What are you? A little kid or something?” he asked

 

“Come oooon!” she said, adding emphasis on the 'o' and still tugging his arm. Sam did the same to Cas, whose hair was sticking up more than normal. The sleepy glare he sent Sams' way had Dean doubled over in laughter.

 

Once he calmed down, Dean was able to speak clear enough to suggest that Jo and Sam let them dress in something other than just boxers and t-shirts.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Ten minutes later, the four teenagers were impatiently waiting outside the locked living room door. On the other side of the wood, they heard the last minute movement of Bobby and Ellen arranging gifts.

 

Jo and Cas were in a heated, though silent, argument in regards to the rude wake up call when the door opened suddenly. Cas' glare smoothed into a fond expression at the sight of a disheveled Ellen Harvelle.

 

Ellen stepped to the side to allow the teenagers access to the living room, and thus, the presents under the tree.

 

The multicolored lights strung on the tree blinked in peaceful harmony, casting shadows on three medium sized boxes with holes on the tops beneath the branches. Surrounding the unique and unwrapped boxes were multiple bags of kitten food, cat litter, three different colored litter boxes with matching scoops, and three bags the same color as the boxes and scoops.

 

Dean, Jo, and Sam gave each other confused looks, which grew even more confused when they caught Cas' expression. Cas looked equal parts worried, fond, and excited. He gave them each a small smile before silently gesturing to the display.

 

Dean, being the last to walk forward, heard Cas silently thank Bobby and Ellen for setting everything up for him.

 

The three teenagers knelt in front of their respective boxes (their names were in front of the one intended for them) with hesitant looks on their faces. Jo's box shook a little as whatever was in it moved. Sam heard faint scratching from one side of his box. Deans' box made a noise, one which had him look up at Jo and Sam in shock. Did it just meow?

 

The noise came again, this time from Jo's box and a moment later from Sams'. Dean glanced to his side when Cas sat down. He didn't quite know what his face looked like, but Cas found it amusing. “Go on,” he said. He looked at Sam and Jo's faces before adding, “open them.”

 

Dean looked down at his box again. Cautiously, he lifted the lid. A smile broke across his face, for inside of his box sat a small, white kitten with it's bright blue eyes, which looked identical to Cas', staring up at him. It's small mouth opened wide as a giant yawn escaped it's body.

 

Cas stared at Dean. Dean stared at the kitten. The kitten stared back.

 

Then the kitten moved. It leaned back and scrunched up it's tiny legs before pouncing at Dean. Dean, with his fast reflexes from four years of playing football, caught it as it collided with his chest. A small, rough tongue reached out and licked at Deans' lips. The body vibrated as the kitten purred loudly. Beside him, he heard two similar purrs join the air. He lifted his head to look at Jo and Sam, who each had a small bundle of fur in their arms as well.

 

Dean finally blinked. It was impossible not to. The laughter broke through his body, causing him to shake in both disbelief and joy. He nuzzled the soft fur on top of his kittens head with his nose before turning his attention to Cas, who still sat beside him.

 

He chuckled again. “You got us cats?” he asked through the laughter, as the little pink tongue licked his face again.

 

“I think I'm going to call him Garfield,” Sam said from his spot five feet away.

 

“Why Garfield?” Jo asked.

 

“Because he can't be more than ten weeks old, yet he's already passed out in my arms. Plus, he's orange and has gray eyes!”

 

“Well, I'm naming mine Luci!” Jo said, holding her own kitten above her head. It's tiny black paws swatted at her nose eagerly. “Because he's such a little devil!”

 

“What about you, Dean?” Sam asked, voice squeaky yet again from the excitement the day has brought so far.

 

He looked down again, into the blue eyes that were so familiar yet so different. “Angel,” he said, without hesitation. He didn't need to see the look on Cas' face to know he was in awe.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It only took five minutes before Bobby made a comment that there were still presents to unwrap. As it turned out, Bobby and Ellen's gifts to the three were all of the accessories for the kittens. The bags that were next to the boxes the kittens were in had numerous cat toys. Sam, Dean, and Jo tossed a few around and let the pets have their own fun.

 

After the excitement calmed down, Bobby unwrapped his presents. From Ellen, he got a fifth of Jack Daniels, which as long as he kept it away from John, would last at least two weeks. Dean and Sam got Bobby different sets of tools. The ones he had at home kept being left at the shop. Jo gave him a new grilling utensil set, complete with tongs, three different sized basting brushes, a two pronged fork, slotted spatula, and a grill cleaning brush. Finally, Cas' gift to him was a gold wrist watch.

 

Ellen was next. Similar to Bobby's gift, Cas gave her a wrist watch with sapphire gemstones encrusted around it. Dean gave her a matching sapphire necklace and earrings set. When asked why sapphire and if they shopped together, they both replied that sapphire was her birthstone and they were just as surprised as everyone else to see the matching gifts. Sam and Jo gave her a box of Godiva chocolates each. It was a well known secret that Godiva was her favorite.

 

Bobby's gift was last. Back in 1973, there was a wine competition in Paris between French wine and Californian wine. The french taste testers tasted blindly at the multiple red and white wines. Everyone attending were surprised to find out that in both categories a California wine won. Bobby gave Ellen a bottle of each of the winning wines; Chateau Montelena's Chardonnay and Stag's Leap Wine Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon.

 

Ellen almost burst into tears.

 

Along with the kittens and their accessories, Dean received the Star Trek TOS trilogy on VHS via Jo and a gold amulet on a black leather cord via Sam, which he automatically looped over his head and tucked into his shirt. Dean gave Sam the Lord of the Rings trilogy book set and the Hobbit, and Jo gave him the books To Kill a Mocking Bird and Catcher in the Rye. Jo got a new knife for her knife collection from Sam. Dean gave her a matching earring and necklace set, similar to Ellen's. The only difference was that Jo's gemstones were diamonds instead of sapphires.

 

Cas was the last to open his presents. Bobby and Ellen split the cost to buy him a tan trench coat. When he tried it on, it hung loosely to his frame. They then went on the explain that they got it a size big so that he could grow into it. Despite being 17, Cas was still growing, and with being on the track team, his slowly growing muscles would help fill it out. Jo gave him a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope, explaining that he can use it once he gets to his clinical classes in college. Sam's present was next. When he opened it he discovered the book Wuthering Heights. Rumor had it that their English class next semester would be reading it, and since Dean was least likely of the two to actually read it (which earned a 'HEY!' from Dean), he figured Cas would like a copy of his own.

 

After Sam finished explaining why he got Cas the book, everyone noticed that there weren't any more gifts under the tree. Five sets of eyes landed on Dean, who was promptly looking at the three playing kittens across the room.

 

“Dean,” Ellen said. Dean blinked up at her and tried his best at an innocent look.

 

“Yes?” he answered. Inside his head he was smirking.

 

Bobby crossed his arms and spoke next, gold watch reflecting the Christmas lights. “With all the time you boys spend around each other, why are you the only one who didn't give Cas a gift?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Oh.” He looked at Cas and smirk. “Cas gets his present tomorrow.”

 

“Why?” Cas asked, blue eyes barely visible through his skeptical glare.

 

Dean shrugged. “Because I can't give it to you today.” He looked down as a black fur ball attacked his hand. “You just have to wait until tomorrow.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

After all the presents were opened and wrapping paper cleaned up, Ellen and Bobby headed for the kitchen to continue working on dinner. Jo set up her litter box for the kittens, Sam played with the kittens, and Dean and Cas took all presents to their respective rooms.

 

The last stop for the two were their bedroom. After dropping their gifts onto the bed carelessly (they were still in boxes, ok?), Dean hollered down the stairs that Sam and Jo better get changed or else they weren't going to the cemetery.

 

Ten minutes later, the four of them were in the Impala, heading south. Cas wore his trench coat. Dean wore his amulet. The kittens were locked in Jo's room until they returned.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The visit to Mary's grave was rather short and uneventful. Sam, Jo, and Cas talked about their gifts. Dean made sure Mary knew that he kept his promise to visit on time. They talked about their kittens, Dean added emphasis on Angels' name when he said it, though only Cas noticed.

 

John didn't show for dinner, much to everyone's appreciation.

 

When nine rolled around, Dean and Cas got ready for bed to ensure they got up early enough for Cas' gift the next day.

 

By ten, they were passed out, snuggled under their heavy comforter, wrapped in each others' embrace, with content smiles on their faces. Angel hopped onto the bed and curled up in a ball on top of their conjoined hips, purring loudly as she fell asleep with her humans.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Dean woke first the next morning by means of his face being attacked by tiny paws and a wet tongue. After disentangling himself from Cas' tight embrace, climbing out of bed, and cuddling Angel in his arms, he prepared himself for the light that he was about to switch on. However, no amount of preparation can prevent the onslaught of brightness from attacking the eyes at six in the morning.

 

He cursed, blinded by the light, dropped Angel and tripped over a still slightly damp towel on the floor. Angel pounced at his feet playfully, causing him to bump into the bed and land on top of Cas. Both boys let out an 'umph' at the contact.

 

“Dean? What the hell are you doing?” Cas asked, voice muffled through the blanket over his head.

 

“Um... Waking you up?” Angel pounced on the lump that was Cas' head. Dean chuckled, “With a little help.”

 

Cas groaned. “Why do we have to get up?” he whined.

 

Dean propped himself on his elbows and tried to pull the blanket off of Cas' head. When that failed, he glared at his boyfriend. “Fine.” He sat up and crossed his arms. “I guess you don't want your Christmas present then.”

 

For someone who was just complaining about getting up, Cas jumped out of bed quickly. In fact, the momentum caused Dean to fall backwards and off the bed. By the time he gained his bearings and sat up, Cas was already half way dressed, Angel at his feet pawing at the frayed bottoms of his jeans. Dean chuckled before standing up.

 

The two made it out the door within twenty minutes, delayed by sneaky kisses and a white fur ball that found fascination with their toes. Within thirty minutes of waking up, Angel was locked in their room, Dean pulled the car out the driveway, and the heat blasted through the cold morning air.


	16. Save that for the black and white (part2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I said screw it and decided to make this chapter a three parter. So here's part 2 of 'Save that for the black and white.'
> 
> Also, this part is pure smut! ;)

Twenty three minutes, five seconds, and two milliseconds later (Dean timed it), Dean and Cas stopped at the end of a dirt road. The headlights illuminated the cluster of trees in front of them, and just beyond the branches, if you looked close enough, you could see a bank of water.

 

Cas didn't have a single clue where they were, since Dean wouldn't give him any information about his present other than the fact that they had to leave the house in order for him to get it. Which is why once they stopped, Dean wasn't surprised when he looked over and saw Cas' confused blue eyes staring at him.

 

He turned the car off, unbuckled his seat belt, and turned in his seat with his hands held high. “Ok, before you say anything, this is just the first part of your gift. You can say yes or no to this part. Well, actually, you can say yes or no for both parts,” he said, all in one breath.

 

Cas cocked an eyebrow. “Ok. Slow your roll and take a chill pill, Dean.” Dean took a deep breath and nodded. “First, there are two parts to my gift? And second, I have a say in whether or not I even want it?”

 

Dean nodded. “Yes and yes.”

 

“Ok,” Cas said, brows furrowed in scrutiny. “Now that we have that clear, where are we?”

 

Dean grinned. “Ok, so get this. The fact that I even remember about this place is freaking awesome. When I was younger, like three or so, and I would get really upset, my mom would bring me out here because this was, like, her happy place or something, right?”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Did you just go preppy on me?”

 

Dean paused and cocked his head. “It's possible.” He nodded. “Highly plausible actually. Jo calls it my preppy button.” His hand reached behind him and rubbed his neck.

 

“Your preppy button?” Blue eyes tiny slits as Cas stared at Dean, absorbing the new information and, no doubt, storing it for later reference.

 

“Uh huh.” He nodded again. “It's when I get really excited about something and there's no filter between my brain and mouth.”

 

“Riiiiight. Go on, just slower this time, please? We don't want to accidentally hit your preppy button again.” He choked on the last few words as a result of holding back laughter.

 

“You're not going to let me live that down, are you?” Dean groaned, already regretting that he mentioned it.

 

“Of course not!” Cas smirked. Deans' dick twitched. A smirk should not be that sexy at shit o'clock in the morning.

 

“So, yeah. This was my mom's happy place. And I've never shown nor told anyone about it.” He paused. “Not even Jo, and she's my best friend.”

 

“So what does this have to do with my Christmas present?” Cas asked, head tilting to the side in an eerily good imitation of Angel.

 

Dean took in a deep, steadying breath. “The last time I was here was when I got my license. I took a celebratory ride and ended up here by accident. So I got out and walked between the trees because I saw the water.” Cas made a gesture with his hands, indicating for Dean to continue. Dean bit his lip. “You know when you haven't been somewhere for a long time, but as soon as you get there the memories come rushing back?” Cas nodded. “That was the first time I was here since before my mom died. It's a special place for me and I wanted to share it with someone special.”

 

“So you chose me?” Cas asked quietly.

 

Dean huffed a laugh. “Duh!” His face softened. Slowly, he raised his hand and cupped Cas' face. “Cas, you're my angel. Who else would I want to share this place with?”

 

Cas leaned into the touch, blue eyes closing as he nuzzled into Deans' hand. The movement stopped abruptly as he stiffened. Brows furrowed as blue eyes gazed into Deans'. “You said that I could say yes or no to this gift, but I don't understand what you mean.”

 

Dean pulled his hand away and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes dropped, effectively breaking contact. “Well, uh.” He swallowed thickly. Looking up, he held a hand up as the other reached behind him and opened the car door. “Wait here,” he said before sliding out.

 

Cas watched as Dean walked to the trunk of the Impala. He heard Dean shuffle around as he looked for whatever it was he got out of the car for. A moment later, Dean walked around and opened the back door, a blanket in hand.

 

“I know it's still dark out and you can't really see the pond,” Dean said while unfolding the blanket. “But that doesn't mean we still can't make this moment special, ya know?” After spreading the blanket across the seat, he patted the spot next to him and looked up. “Come here,” he said, voice small and eyes anxious.

 

Cas climbed over the front seat, being careful not to scuff up the leather interior. Dean pulled the cover back and Cas sat down.

 

The two cuddled there, in the backseat of the car, for maybe fifteen minutes. Cas shifted his position and looked up. “Hey, Dean?” he asked.

 

Dean kissed the top of his head. “Yeah, angel?” He spoke into the unruly mop and nuzzled it with his nose.

 

Cas shifted again until he was sitting crossed legged next to Dean. The sudden cold sent a shiver up his spine. “Why did you name your kitten 'Angel'?” he asked.

 

Dean looked Cas in the eyes, hand lifting up to cup the blue eyed mans' cheek. “I named her Angel so that when I'm not with you, I still have an angel to go home to.”

 

“Wow,” Cas huffed. “Very chick-flick of you, Dean.” He smirked, blue eyes glittering playfully in the rising sun.

 

Dean shrugged. “What can I say? You bring out the girl in me.”

 

“I sure hope not,” Cas scowled.

 

Deans' eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah?” Cas nodded. “Why is that?” he smirked.

 

Next thing he knew, he had a lap full of blue eyes, dark hair, and muscles. Soft, slightly chapped, pink lips were on his. Strong hands were in his hair, tugging lightly. The kiss ended as fast as it started. Chest heaving, Cas breathlessly growled, “I love your dick too much,” the hand in his hair tugged hard, “so you better not be turning into a girl on me, Winchester.”

 

Dean chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah?” he asked. Another pull of his hair. “What do you love so much about my dick?” He cocked an eyebrow.

 

Cas growled. “Mmmm.” He ground his hips into Deans'. “The way it feels with my hand around it.” He rolled his hips. A gasp escaped Deans' mouth. “How hard it gets. How warm it gets.” Cas let out a moan. “The way it fills me up, makes me feel complete.”

 

Deans' hands squeezed Cas' shoulders, arms wrapped around his angel, holding him close, pulling him harder into his groin. He could feel his dick throbbing in his pants, tenting the front of his jeans.

 

Cas pulled away, only to pull his shirt up and off, revealing his toned runners body. Dean sat up slightly, enough to pull his shirt off as well. Cas thrust forward again, nibbling at Deans' lips, jaw, neck, any where he could reach. The heat of their bodies mixed. The windows fogged.

 

Deans' hands reached between them, fingers ghosted along the heated stomach of his boyfriends rippling muscles. He rolled his hips up while his fingers unbuttoned Cas' jeans. The zipper pulled down of its' own accord, the pressure of Cas' cock eager for release.

 

Dean pushed against Cas, fighting for dominance and taking control of the kiss. His arm guided Cas back until he was laying on the seat, blanket pushed to the floor. He mouthed at Cas' neck, slowly working his way down the lithe body beneath him. His hands pulled gently at Cas' jeans and boxers, tantalizingly slow as he rid them of his boyfriends' body, removing his shoes and socks as his hands moved down. Cas' cock bounced free of its' restraints, precum leaking from its' tip, leaving a shiny stripe on Cas' stomach.

 

Dean took a moment to stare at the beautiful man laying beneath him. Hooded blue eyes stared back at him. Hair stuck up in different directions, begging for fingers to card through it. Deans' fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to run his hands through the soft, silky hair. Cas' cheeks were flushed, his kiss swollen lips parted.

 

He bent down and kissed those lips, his tongue sliding easily into the warm mouth of his lover. Tongues wrestled for dominance, exploring and mapping out each others mouths, memorizing the feel and layout.

 

He broke the kiss and stared into Cas' eyes. The thin ring of dark blue surrounded lust blown pupils. Warm breath hit his face.

 

His body warmed from the inside out. Chest exploding as electric heat ran thrown his veins. This was the face of the man he loved. He could wake up every morning to see those too blue eyes gaze sleepily at him, a soft smile gracing those lips. He lurched forward again, capturing those lips in a bruise worthy kiss before pulling back once again.

 

He bent down and lifted a leg over his shoulder, shuffling back a bit into a more comfortable position. Face turned towards the soft skin, he placed a gentle kiss on Cas' thigh, descending slowly to the crook of his groin. Bypassing the throbbing member altogether, he leaned forward, tongue reaching out to lick the smooth stomach of his angel, tongue delving into the other mans' navel and lapping at the precum that smeared there.

 

The taste was salty, slightly bitter, but sweet at the same time. It tasted like Cas. Pure honey and rain and sweat. He couldn't hold back any longer. He bent his head, just enough, and licked lightly at the tip of Cas' cock. Above him he heard the hitch of breath. He looked up and smirked at the surprised look on Cas' face.

 

He nuzzled the curly hair at the base of Cas cock, inhaling the sweet, musky scent. His tongue reached out and tasted Cas for the first time, licking a stripe from base to tip. A groan ripped from Cas' throat, deep and breathy.

 

Dean relaxed his throat, mentally and physically preparing himself for what he was about to do. Hesitantly, he bowed his head and let a small breath of air ghost over the tip. His tongue flicked out, licking at the small pool of precum that gathered at the top, and swallowed.

 

“Dean,” Cas moaned out, breathless. Taking that as encouragement, Dean wrapped his lips around the head of Cas' cock and sucked lightly. Cas bucked his hips as a strangled, “FUCK!” was released into the air.

 

He choked, as inches of the throbbing member was shoved in his mouth. Coughing, he pulled away and looked up. Cas leaned up and cradled his face, whispered words of apologies spoken into his skin with every feather light kiss he placed.

 

Dean rubbed his neck, kissed him once, and pushed him back. His left arm draped across Cas' hips, holding them down, as his right hand grabbed the base. He bent his head again, and slowly inched his mouth down, tongue swirling around the hot penis. He hallowed his cheeks, warmth flowing through his body with every whimper and gasp of encouragement he received. His hand pumped up and down the few inches he couldn't fit in his mouth, meeting his lips with every twist of upward movement.

 

Blood rushed passed his ears. The whispered words of encouragement sounded miles away.

 

A few minutes later, he felt Cas' muscles tightened, the tell tale sign of an oncoming orgasm. Right before Cas' strangled voice broke through the haze in his brain, screaming, “Dean, I'm gonna - fuck! I'm gonna -” he gripped the base of his penis, preventing the come from spilling out.

 

He let go of the head with a small 'pop'.

 

“Why the hell did you stop?” Cas yelled, voice gruff with lust and irritation.

 

He crawled over his angels body, careful not to add friction to either of the aching penis'. Blue eyes glared up at him. He carded his fingers through the sweat slick hair before bending down and giving Cas a slow, passionate kiss. Cas' body relaxed to the kiss, limbs becoming limp.

 

Dean broke the kiss and locked eyes with Cas again. Hand still running through Cas' hair, his breath hitched from how beautiful the other man looked.

 

He pulled back, leaned over the front seat, and rummaged through the glove box. After finding what he was searching for, he sat in front of Cas again and pulled the man into another kiss, slipping the tiny container into the others' hand.

 

Cas broke the kiss and looked down. Realization dawned on him as he gazed into his hands. His eyes flew up to Deans', wide with surprise.

 

“D-dean?” he asked, voice still thick from his almost completion.

 

He nodded. “Yeah, Cas.”

 

Shocked blue eyes blinked back. “Are,” he cleared his throat. “Are you sure, Dean?” he asked, a questioning look in his surprised eyes.

 

Dean cupped Cas' face with his hands and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles over the slightly rough cheeks. When he spoke, his eyes bore into blue. “Angel.” He kissed Cas again. “If you don't want to do it, you can say no. I told you that when we first got here.” One hand slid into messy hair, the other moved down to rest lightly over Cas' neck. “But I'm ready. God, Cas, I'm ready.” Tears sprang to his eyes.

 

“Ok.” Cas nodded. “Ok. Um.” He slid his hands up Deans chest and cupped his face. “Lean back,” he instructed quietly.

 

Dean did as he was told. Cas knelt in front of him, penis erect and a thoughtful look on his face. He nodded to himself, leaned over the front seat, and turned the key. Fiddling with the radio, he stopped at a station, turned it low, and retreated to the backseat once again.

 

Cas nervously ran his hands up Deans' jean clad thighs in time with the soft music flowing through the car. He leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to Deans', hands still massaging the warm, muscular thighs. The warm pressure sent chills up Deans' spine and back to his imprisoned dick with every movement. Cas hesitated above Dean. His nose rubbed lovingly against Deans', while his hands moved higher, outlining the muscular chest beneath his finger tips.

 

The whimper that escaped Deans' lips was a surprise to both. His aching cock strained against the jeans. Cas' hands fumbled with the button, pressing opened mouth kisses to Deans' jaw and neck.

 

The faint sound of the zipper being pulled down rang through the air. Blood rushed past his ears again as his heart rate increased. Every touch, every breath of warm air, tingled his body. He jumped as his cock was finally released from it's confinement. Gentile hands pulled out the rest of his clothing. Fingertips ghosted over his flushed skin.

 

He was lost in the sensations. The music a low hum in the background, barely heard over his labored breathing. Breath hitched in shock at the first touch of something cold on his ass.

 

He sat up, head butting Cas in the process, and scooted back. The window, though foggy, yet another cold shock on his back. He jerked forward, into the comforting arms of his angel.

 

A gentile hand carded through his hair. His ragged breathing slowed down.

 

“Shh. I got you. I got you,” whispered in his neck.

 

Cold sweat trickled down his back. He pulled away, the hand in his hair sliding down to cup his cheek. They locked eyes. Blue orbs full of concern stared back, searching his face.

 

“I'm fine,” he said, still breathing hard. Cas gave him a pointed look. “Really,” he insisted. “I just wasn't expecting the cold.”

 

“Are you sure you want to continue. We don't have to.”

 

He cupped Cas' face and brought their foreheads together. Still taring into the blue eyes, he said, “I want to, Cas.” He rubbed his thumb across the other mans' cheek before pulling back and laying back once again.

 

He watched as Cas applied more lube to his fingers and rubbed them together, effectively warming the liquid up. He watched as the slicked hand disappeared between them. Cas leaned forward and caught green eyes with his own.

 

This time when the fingers touched him, he didn't pull back. He felt them rub against his hole and unconsciously clenched. “You have to relax, Dean,” Cas whispered. He took a deep breath and held it. As the air escaped his lungs slowly, he felt his body relax.

 

Cas lips caught his in a gentle kiss, distracting him from the first finger pushing past the tight ring of muscle of his ass. He sighed in relief. There was only slight discomfort as the finger pushed in and out of his body.

 

The kiss, chaste and slow at first, turned heated quickly. Cas' tongue flicked out, seeking permission to slip passed kiss swollen lips. Dean granted him access. With the intrusion of Cas' tongue, a second finger joined the first. He clenched. The burning of the stretched muscle pooling heat in his stomach.

 

The fingers paused their movement. Cas' tongue retreated. Dean opened his eyes, unaware of when he closed them, and stared into Cas' gentle gaze.

 

They stayed like that, staring at each other and still as statues, until Deans' body relaxed around Cas' fingers. Then Cas surged forward, capturing Deans' lips once again and thrusting his fingers in and out.

 

The sensation like nothing he's ever felt before. Cas twisted his fingers every few thrusts. His free hand wound it's way to Dean's front, wrapped around his dick and jerked him in time with his fingers.

 

His muscles clenched. Arms wrapped around Cas' back, careful not to scratch, and held him close. A third finger was added. Dean whimpered as equal parts pain and pleasure coursed through his body.

 

Cas twitched his fingers forward. Electricity coursed through his body. His eyes rolled back, lids fluttered, mouth dropped opened, as intense pleasure relaxed and tightened his body at the same time. A silent scream escaped his mouth. His hips bucked forward. Above him, he heard a deep chuckle from Cas, and then the fingers twitched, hitting the same spot.

 

Tears slid down his cheeks. One hand smacked the back window and slid down, leaving a hand trail on the steamed glass. The other landed flat against the window behind him and pushed him down, thrusting his body on Cas' fingers.

 

Cas chuckled again, then he was empty. He swallowed hard. Faint music still played in the background. The rustling of cloth grabbed his attention and, with more effort than he ever imagined, he pushed up.

 

Dazed eyes landed on Cas. The man in question held the lube in one hand. The other searched through the clothes and blanket, looking for something that wasn't there. Dean raised a heavy hand, glad when it landed on Cas' knee.

 

Frantic blue eyes fixated on him. Breathing heavily, Cas said, “I can't find the condom!”

 

Dean blinked a few times in an attempt to focus. When the question processed in his mind, he adverted his eyes. “I, um,” he cleared his throat, embarrassed at how hoarse his voice came out. “I didn't give you one,” he said, fingering a stray piece of string on the blanket.

 

A few moments passed in silence. Dean fingered the string. Cas burned a hole through Deans' head. Finally, in a quiet voice, Cas asked, “You don't want to use a condom?”

 

Dean blinked back tears. He sat up. Arms wrapped around his knees and held them to his chest. Gulping, he forced his gaze up and stared into blue. “Do you want to?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard over the quiet music.

 

They sat there, cramped in the backseat of the Impala, staring at each other. He saw Cas' adams apple as he gulped, loud in the almost quiet morning. “When we got here, you said I could say yes or no.” He paused. Blue eyes searched Deans' face. “Was this what you were referring to? Whether or not I wanted to use a condom?”

 

It was Deans' turn to gulp. The force of the movement burned his throat. “Well, more or less, yeah.” He clenched his jaw, prepared for Cas to ask for one.

 

The sound of the lube tube being opened caused Deans' jaw to drop open. Shocked green eyes bore into blue. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cas' hand slick his dick with the liquid. The hand that held the lube tossed it onto the floor, reached out, and gently unclasped Deans' hands. Dean shifted wordlessly, laying himself on the seat and spreading his legs. Cas got in position between Deans' legs and leaned forward, arm bent next to Deans' head for support.

 

Still staring into each others eyes, Cas aligned himself with Deans' hole. Dean nodded in encouragement and gulped nervously. The head of the penis breaching his ass caused a burn he wasn't prepared for, despite the stretching from moments before. The pain caused Dean to clench his eyes shut and take an intake of breath. The movements paused.

 

A few seconds later, he felt Cas press his lips to his own. The slow rubbing of the thumb along his face relaxed him. He leaned into the touch, breaths coming and going quickly. The pressure on his lips stopped, telling him that Cas had moved away, but the breath hitting his flushed face told him he was still near.

 

He pressed his forehead against Cas' and rubbed their noses together. The burn returned as Cas pushed forward, slow inch by slow inch. He held his breath.

 

When Cas bottomed out, he knew. It wasn't the fact that the blue eyed man had stopped moving. It wasn't even from the weight of the others' sack hanging heavy against his checks.

 

No. It was from the feeling of being full, feeling complete. It was the missing piece to his puzzle, the one thing that finally made him whole.

 

It might have also had to do with the fact that Cas shuddered when he stopped.

 

Dean released his breath and wound his arms around Cas' neck, pulling him closer and in farther. Cas hugged him tight, arms crossing behind Deans' back and pulling them flush together. He felt Cas' lips press to his neck. Felt the discomfort slowly ebb away.

 

And then Cas moved.

 

His movements were slow, taking away the fullness, then bringing it back. They clung to each other, both too afraid that if they let go, even a little bit, the other would disappear.

 

They stayed like this, clinging onto one another, the whole time. Cas slowly moved in and out of Dean. Their breathing labored, the air hot with their combined body heat, but neither released their grip. And when they came, they came together.


	17. Save that for the black and white (part3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the late update guys. Work has been killing me and we're in the process of trying to move.
> 
> Ya'll are probably going to love and hate me this chapter. Love me because I finally updated again. Hate me because, well, you're just have to read and find out.
> 
> :)
> 
> EDIT: A few people mentioned how unrealistic the ending of this chapter was. After rereading it, I completely agreed with them. I ended up reading farther back and noticed that a lot of it was really poorly written, so I've spent all day at my dad's rewriting about half of this. It flows a lot better now and it doesn't do that time jump thingy when talking about classes. If you've already read this, then just skip to after NYE. If not, then I hope you enjoy!

When Dean woke up, it was to a naked Castiel draped on top of him.

 

The Impala's windows were still steamed up. The blanket and all their clothes were scattered everywhere. A pair of jeans draped across the head rest of the passenger seat, one pant leg on either side. There was also an ache in his ass that took only a few seconds for Dean to comprehend.

 

He looked down at his angels peaceful face. The sun was up now, but still low enough on the horizon. It glowed softly on top of Cas' head. A halo to complete his angels' look.

 

From the front of the car, the radio played on low. It was a song from one of those modern day boy bands, and while Dean didn't know the words to it, and if anyone asked, he would deny it until the day he died, but the tune was rather catchy.

 

His hands carded through Cas' hair as he hummed along to the song. “ _I'll give you every thing I can. I'll build your dreams with these two hands. We'll hang some memories on the wall. And when (and when) just the two of us are there, you won't have to ask if I still care. 'Cause as time turns the page, my love won't ever age at all. And I swear (I swear) by the moon and the stars in the sky, I'll be there (I'll be there). I swear (and I swear) like the shadow that's by your side, I'll be there (I'll be there). For better or worse, till death do us part, I'll love you with every single beat of my heart, and I swear._ ”

 

The body on top of him shifted awake as the last notes of the song faded. Dean stopped moving his fingers and looked down. Sleepy blue eyes fluttered opened and looked up at him.

 

“How are you feeling?” Cas mumbled out, before sitting up and stretching his back as much as possible, given the tight space the two teens occupied.

 

“A little sore, but I've had worst.” He sent a little smirk Cas' way before sitting up as well.

 

They dressed, exchanging kisses every few seconds, and slid back into the front seat.

 

Dean started the car and made sure to change the station, before backing onto the road once again. The ride to their next destination was mostly held in silence, the low hum of the radio the only noise. Every time they caught each others eye, Dean redden. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, he was just... Ok, maybe he was a little embarrassed.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

They were five minutes away before the silence was broken.

 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said, voice a little more than a whisper.

 

“Mmm. Yes, Dean,” Cas said, voice still gravelly from a combination of sleep and sex.

 

Deans' dick twitched a little in interest. “Um,” he cleared his throat as a light dusting a pink spread over his cheeks. “I, um. I need you to close your eyes for the next part of your gift.”

 

Dean saw Cas' eyes curiously squint to the side. A slight shrug of a shoulder, and Cas did as he was asked, keeping whatever comment Dean saw in the blue to himself.

 

A minute later, Dean pulled in front of a small brick building with big windows. Peeling green lettering across the top said, “Caleb's tattoos”. With a flick of his wrist, the car turned off and the music stopped. His fingers curled around the door handle. He looked at Cas, who still had his eyes closed. After making a decision, Dean released the handle and turned his body so that he could face his boyfriend.

 

“You can open your eyes now,” Dean said. When Cas did, he took one look at the building before turning shocked eyes to Dean.

 

“Dean?”

 

He raised his hands in a defensive stance, palms forward as if Cas was a frighten animal who was about to take off... or attack. “Ok, before you say anything, you still have the right to say yes or no.” He waited until he saw Cas nod his head, then took a deep breath. “The guy who owns the shop is an old family friend of Bobby and Ellen's,” he continued, deliberately leaving out John's name. “His name is Caleb... and he's a tattoo artist.” He gave Cas a worried look and bit his lip.

 

Cas' face was one of shock. His mouth formed a small 'o', his blue eyes shined like crystals. He was quiet. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly. He squinted his eyes as they grew dark with suspicion, brows furrowed downward. Then he huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Dean, you can't be serious. We only just talked about tattoos, what, five days ago? There's no way you have enough money for this.”

 

He felt his cheeks heat up and spread to the tips of his ears. His hand found its way to the back of his neck, eyes focused on something outside his driver side window. “Look, without going uber chick-flick right now. I've had this planned for weeks. I picked the design and everything. You don't have to make a decision now. At least look at the picture first, please?” he asked, voice coming out like a whine as he locked green on blue.

 

He waited, staring into the blue eyes he loved so much, for what felt like hours. Cas' eyes closed and he watched as the other teen took a deep breath. When they opened again, there was a determination in them that sent a shock through Deans' body. “Ok.” The corners of Cas' soft lips twitched.

 

“Ok?”

 

The smile he was granted lit up Cas' face. Blue eyes shone brightly in the low sunlight. He watched Cas' head nod, eyes crinkled at the sides. “Ok.”

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

After walking into the shop, Dean did the necessary introductions, purposely leaving out the boyfriend part of his and Cas' relationship. The three of them looked at the image Dean picked. The warm feeling in Deans' chest grew tenfold when he saw Cas' eyes light up at the wings.

 

The tattooing process lasted just under two hours. Dean stayed by Cas' side the whole time, hand available if Cas needed it. With last minute care instructions, and a firm reminder not to do any exercise until it heals (which worked well, considering there weren't any track practices for the next week and a half as a result of the holidays), Dean and Cas finally made their way home, hand in hand.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was around noon when they pulled in front of Ellens' house. Snow started flurrying half way home from Calebs' shop. The windshield wipers moved slowly, collecting the cold clumps of icicles on either side of the window. The heat was blasting just enough to keep them warm without causing unnecessary sweat. Cas sat on the edge of his seat, breathing slowly in hopes of not agitating his back. Deans' jacket hung loose on the smaller man's frame, front opened to prevent any extra restrictions it may cause. In a bag on the floor of the Impala, Cas' shirt and jacket were folded neatly. He turned the car off, grabbed the bag of clothes, and as one, the two teenagers opened their doors.

 

The trek towards the house was rather slow, with Cas moving ridiculously slow. Walking up the front steps, Dean could see faces peeking out of the living room window. His hand was inches away from the door handle when it swung opened, revealing the curious face of Ellen. In the doorway leading to the living room, Sam and Jo stood with equal amounts of curiosity shining in their eyes. Bobby leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, opened cold beer in hand and looking like he wanted to punch something.

 

“Are you two idjits gonna just stand there and look stupid, or are you gonna get inside so we don't all die of pneumonia?” Bobby's gruff voice said, breaking Dean out of his trance. He nodded, and the two of them walked in, Ellen closing the door behind them.

 

The atmosphere in the house was thick. He looked over at Sam and Jo. Beyond their curiosity, Dean could make out something else. Some other emotion that they tried to hide.

 

Next to him, Dean could feel Cas' tense walking, as he slowly got used to the scabbing on his back. In the middle of the room, the two teens stopped. Cas' bag of clothes slipped out of Deans' hand and landed with a soft thump on the hardwood flooring beneath their feet.

 

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. All eyes were on Dean and Cas. And then he felt it. The tiny needles digging into his skin. The pricks that climbed up his leg. His face twisted in pain, but the pain didn't stop there. As it traveled up, the previous pain disappeared. His jeans pulled down in time to the pricks. Before he could glance down, however, the pain traveled up the front of his chest, pulling down his loose shirt. And then he saw it. The white fur and blue eyes of Angel.

 

In the kittens defense, she just missed her owner. Dean knew that. It was the logical explanation. But that didn't mean he had to be happy. Those nails hurt after all. So he sent her a glare. In return, a soft white paw batted his nose, the nails, thankfully, retracted back into the skin. In way of an apology, Angel mewled softly. It was only then that Dean heard it. The laughter.

 

He grabbed Angel and held her close. Looking up, he met Sam and Jo's faces and stuck his tongue out, causing yet another round of laughter to pass through the room. This time Dean joined in, reveling in the lack of tension that surrounded them only a minute ago.

 

When the laughter died down, and everyone had control of themselves once again, they all wordlessly made their way into the living room. It didn't take long for Sams' voice to meet his ears from across the room.

 

“Dean,” his voiced squeaked. You gotta love puberty, seriously. “Why is Cas wearing your jacket?”

 

For the second time in so many minutes, all eyes were on the pair. He was about to answer, mouth partially opened and everything, when Jo's squeal from next to Sam caused all eyes to land on her instead.

 

“It's because of your Christmas present to Cas, isn't it? Oooo! What did you get him?”

 

Cas, with help from Dean, slowly slid the jacket off his arms and turned around. For the next half hour, everyone praised the detail of the wings. Sam and Jo had a hard time coming up with words to express their feelings. Their vocabulary seemed to have fried, with the only words escaping their mouths being a mix of 'wow's, and 'oh my god's, and 'holy cow's.

 

This gave Dean the chance to just ogle at Cas. His eyes traced the pattern of the feathers. The shading inside each stem of feather. The boldness of the black outline. The way the lowest tips sat just above Cas' hips. The curve of the top feathers, and the straightness of the bottom ones.

 

His fingers twitch with the want, the need, to trace the inked skin.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

For the first few nights after getting the tattoo, Cas had to lay on his stomach to sleep. For starters, Cas despises sleeping on his stomach. If that weren't bad enough, throw in the fact that Angel decided that jumping on Cas' back at two in the morning was a good idea.

 

Dean made sure to stay out of Cas' way for those first few days.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

It was New Years Eve's eve. Cas' back already started to shed scabs. This gave Dean and Jo amusement, in being able to slap Cas' back as hard as they wanted in order to ward off the itchiness, which Cas couldn't go a half hour without complaining about. He was now able to sleep on his back once more, which meant that everyone was in the clear to talk to him without getting their heads chewed off.

 

Dean was sitting in the kitchen when Ellen walked in. It was around noon, and by this point in the day Ellen would usually have a list of food needed for the next day in her hands, checking and double checking that everything was there before sending Dean and Jo to the store. But there was no list in her hand. There was no mention of shopping from her mouth. Dean knew this had something to do with the day after Christmas, when he and Cas walked in to the tense atmosphere.

 

He held his breath and braced himself for what ever news he was about to ask for. “So,” he started. He waited until he knew he had Ellen's attention, before continuing. “Are we not eating anything tomorrow night to ring in the new year, or am I just missing something?” He cocked an eyebrow, daring Ellen to lie to him.

 

She sighed heavily. Taking her time by means of pouring a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table across from Dean, sent alarm bells to ring in his head. This couldn't mean good news.

 

“You're not going to like what I'm about to say, Dean,” she said.

 

 **Well that's just great,** he thought.

 

“Does this have something to do with how everyone was acting when me and Cas got back from Calebs' last week?” he asked, refusing to beat around the bush and opting to dive straight in.

 

Her defeated sigh and adverting eyes was all the answer he needed. He crossed his arms, patiently waiting for her to continue.

 

“Your father came by while the two of you were out that day.”

 

“Oh, yeah? And what did the good for nothing bastard want?” he snapped back.

 

“Instead of having the party here this ye-”

 

She didn't finish. Dean didn't give her time to. He pushed himself away from the table and stomped out the room, not caring if he was acting like a little kid who didn't get what he wanted.

 

Stomping up the stairs and down the hall, he barged into his and Cas' bedroom (which under any normal circumstance usually had him fighting off a blush at the thought). Cas, the angel that he was, was lounging on the bed, book opened midway. He didn't give Cas a chance to react. His body flopped down next to the blue eyed man. Arms wrapped just this close to being painful, around the others body, and held him close.

 

He felt shaking, and realized too late that it was coming from him. Cas didn't say a word. He turned in the embrace and held Dean back, fingers carding through his short blonde hair every so often. Angel, already noticeably bigger after only a week, hoped onto the bed with her fathers, as Dean and Cas would call each other when talking to the ball of white fur. She curled up on top of their hips, softly purring. With the lack in her ability, as an animal, to form words, the soft purrs was her way of consolation.

 

With the combined vibrations from his kitten, the slow rise and fall of Cas' body as he breathed, and the fingers that idly moved through his hair, Dean fell asleep, fully clothed, just after one in the afternoon.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The house was packed, which was saying something, considering it was a little bigger than Ellens'. Music streamed out of the television from the living room. The “Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve” show was on, rather loud, to accommodate the already drunk twenty-one and older guests. It was still another thirty minutes until the ball dropped, but KISS was going strong. The crowd loved them.

 

If this were any other year, or if the party was held anywhere other than at the Winchester house, Dean would have loved it. KISS was one of those rock god bands that defined Dean to the 'T'. But he couldn't. He couldn't enjoy the music, or the happy atmosphere, or even the company of Cas, and Jo, and Sam. The fact that he was under John's supervision, his watchful eye, had him jumpy.

 

Jo, of course, noticed straight away, but he wouldn't let her corner him. She gave up not long after noticing, and opted to send him concern glances every now and then.

 

It was now ten minutes until the ball drop. Dean was hiding in the kitchen, eating little wiener dogs with barbeque sauce, when he heard Ellen and Jo's voices over the music from the living room.

 

He shoved away from the table and shuffled forward, head bent low. When he entered the living room, the volume on the tv had been turned down and Ellen and Jo were directing people.

 

“Ok, so we can all see the tv now, right?” Jo hollered out bossily. There were various nods all around the room.

 

“Does -hiccup- everyone have -hiccup- someone to kiss when -hiccup- the ball drops?” Ellen asked. Dean wanted to facepalm himself. If Ellen was hiccuping, then she was far gone on the sober ladder.

 

Again, various head nods in the two blondes direction.

 

Ellen seemed satisfied by the silent answer, nodding her head in agreement. Jo was staring at Dean. “Who are you going to kiss, Dean?” she asked.

 

Dean shrugged. The only person he wanted to kiss, he couldn't.

 

Jo wasn't satisfied with his answer. “Well, you have to kiss someone,” she pointed out. Then, literally using her finger, she pointed to each pair of people. “Your dad is kissing Miss Milligan. Sam has Jess. Anna is with Ash tonight (when and how the hell did that happen?). Gabe is with Kali. My mom is apparently kissing Uncle Bobby tonight (ew). I'm kissing Alfie. So that just leaves you with...” She trailed off as several people, mainly the sober teenagers, all stared at Cas. And shit, if that wasn't the worst thing ever.

 

Dean could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of his skull. He didn't have to, and wouldn't dream of, turning around to see that it was John.

 

“No. HELL no! My son ain't kissing no boy!” he drunkenly exclaimed.

 

“But he needs someone to kiss, uncle John!” Jo said, trying to sound innocent to the drunk man.

 

“NO!”

 

“Oh, hush, John,” Bobby said. He waved his hand at the slightly younger man in dismissal. “It's just an innocent kiss. They'll kiss for like a second and then when they're done they can both wipe their lips and pretend it never happened.”

 

“TEN!”

 

John crossed his arms, but said no more on the topic.

 

“NINE!”

 

“Dean, hurry up and stand next to Cas!” Jo exclaimed.

 

“EIGHT!”

 

Dean walked over to the blue eyed angel, who was standing next to an unoccupied couch.

 

“SEVEN!”

 

He grabbed Cas' arm and pulled him down to sit next to him. If he had to do this under his father's eye, then he could at least be comfortably sitting.

 

“SIX!”

 

“You don't have a problem being my New Year's kiss, do you, Dean?” Cas asked, cocking his head to the side.

 

“FIVE!”

 

Staring into the deep blue eyes, he answered quietly, so no one else could hear. “Never, Angel.”

 

“FOUR!”

 

He was lost. Lost in the blueness of those eyes. Lost in the heat that was burning into his skin from the body inches away from him. He was just so lost.

 

“THREE!”

 

They started leaning into each other, inch by inch. Dean realized then, that this was the first time he acted some what normal around Cas all day.

 

“TWO!”

 

He could feel the heated glare from behind him. He knew, without looking, that John was practically wishing death on the two of them right then and there. But he didn't care. Because for once, he could kiss his boyfriend in front of his family, and not have to worry about judgment from any of them. John didn't count.

 

“ONE!”

 

Blood flowed hot through his veins. His head felt like it was on fire, ready to burst at any given moment. Yet they continued to get closer, until...

 

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

 

The sound of the cheering crowd didn't penetrate his hearing. Skin on skin, stubble against stubble. The kiss was chaste. Too quick for either of their liking, but slightly longer than everyone expected. But no one noticed. They were too wrapped up in their own kisses.

 

They didn't hear the faint click of a camera from feet away.

 

When they pulled away, eyes slowly fluttering opened, they just stared.

 

“Happy New Year, Dean.”

 

“Happy New Year, Angel.”

 

His hands twitched. He wanted nothing more than to be able to lock his fingers around the soft, silky smooth black locks, and pull Cas forward. To show him how much he meant to Dean.

 

But he didn't.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The following Monday school resumed. Stress levels skyrocketed as everyone began preparing for exams at the end of the month. The work load grew bigger, teachers snapped more than usual, and each day was a mixture of various fast and slow paced lessons.

 

In Dean and Cas' first block, Mr. Merritt announced the classes final project. Everyone, regardless of graduation year, had three weeks to write, edit, and revise a commencement speech, despite their obvious displeasure. During exam week, each student will then deliver their speech. If all the speeches were delivered before the next semester started at the end of that week, the remaining days would be used as study time, in which Merritt expected them to work on their classes and study in small groups for any remaining exams.

 

For the underclassmen, this gave them at least a year to edit their speeches, giving them time to make it perfect for their graduation, if they so chose to submit their speech.

 

For Dean, Cas, and the handful of seniors in the class, however, they only had five months left to go until they were free of the school. It is not a requirement for most students to submit a speech at the end of the year, though it is highly recommended. As senior president and vice president, Dean and Cas will, at the most, have to say a few words before the selected speeches are delivered.

 

The remainder of the class was spent with heads down, mouths shut, and pens to paper. When the bell rang, Dean and Cas headed their separate ways. Not long after he walked into Maldonado's room and plopped into a seat, the bell rang again. He continued brainstorming ideas for the speech on a piece of notebook paper. About half way through the block, Dean had a sudden brain fart. Multiple ideas were down on the page, including personal anecdotes from his time in high school, but he didn't know how he wanted to even begin the speech. Merritt said they could use quotes from movies, or books, or even music. But nothing seemed to come to his mind. At a lost of what to write, he began elaborating the stories he wanted to use. He was halfway through writing a brief, yet elaborated, summary of freshman year when the bell signaling lunch rang.

 

Lunch was spent rather normal, though each of the three friends knew it would change. With the extra work thrown at them, they would soon be emerged in nothing but books and ink. Dean knew from experience that by the end of exams, Jo's hair would be so abused by her frantic hands that it would take a week to tame it back to normal. He also knew that within the first week of constant studying, his lunch tray would temporarily be replaced by school books. If it weren't for that fact that the next day was the first of many pt days for him, he would lose about ten pounds from lack of food.

 

Health class was boring as ever. STDs, sex, drugs. It was the same shit every year and yet at least a quarter of the class struggled. Dean's life was surrounded by the alcohol and sex Levitsky's class discussed. Worksheet after worksheet, Dean knew that this class would be the slowest part of the day for the next month.

 

The bell rang, signaling the start of the last block of the day. Mrs. Hudock was Dean and Cas' only teacher to begin a new segment of the course, explaining that everyone will start reviewing for the final at the beginning of the next week. Whatever new information Hudock gave them that Dean didn't grasp, Cas more than willing to explain while they worked on practice problems.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The first few weeks of January stayed in a repetitive cycle. The four teenagers would wake up, go to school, then after school they went their separate ways.

 

After the first day back to school, Dean went to the garage. It was midway through his shift when he remembered. It took a lot of convincing and, though he would deny it, begging to get Bobby to agree, but by the end of the shift, Dean's schedule was changed. He now worked overtime on the weekends and had Tuesday and Thursday off. Though Bobby kept asking, Dean was adamant not to spoil the surprise. He couldn't exactly tell Bobby that he forged John's signature to enlist into the Army, now could he? When the pestering got too much, Dean resigned and told Bobby that he needed the days off because he had something important to do, but he couldn't say anything more until his birthday. Bobby let the subject drop after that, with the knowledge that he wouldn't be out of the loop for much longer.

 

So Dean's days after school was an every other day schedule of work and pt. His recruiters were polite, yet strict. Sergeant Zee lead Tuesday sessions, while Sergeant Dee lead Thursday's. Every other pt session, one of the future soldiers had to lead the group, whether it was by giving orders, such as about face, or leading in the exercises. Dean's pride soared the first time he was leading. Sergeant Dee complimented Dean on his strength in his confidence and orders by making an example out of him, telling the others to pay attention to how Dean held himself when barking out orders or walking.

 

On pt days, Dean would stop by the Roadhouse early and pick Jess and Sam up. On work days, it was later in the evening when he would get there. When he wasn't working, doing pt, or studying/writing his commencement speech, Dean was catching up on sleep and food.

 

Jo's schedule was much the same as Deans'. After school she would stop by the middle school to pick Jess and Sam up. The three would then drive to the Roadhouse. Sam and Jess would study in the backroom where it wasn't as noisy, while Jo waited tables. During her free time, which she luckily had more of than Dean, she would hang out with Alfie.

 

Cas, Dean knew, stayed after school every day for track practice. But with how busy he's been and with how little time he's had to himself since the beginning of the month, Dean didn't know nor had much of a chance to ask Cas what he does with the rest of his time.

 

The only time the three friends have spent with each other, outside of school that is, is during the weekends. Dean and Sam would stay the night on Friday's and Saturday's, Angel and Garfield tagging along. On those days, to Dean's knowledge, Cas would study with Sam while Ellen, Jo, and himself was at work. By the time Dean got back to the house, he had enough energy to eat dinner and pass out on the bed, only to have to wake up early to go back to the garage despite wanting nothing more than to snuggle up closer to Cas.

 

That is the most interaction the two of them have for the majority of three weeks.

 

Dean didn't like it. 

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Throughout all the hustle and bustle the month brought them, the Harvelle/Winchester/Singer family still made time to go out and support Cas' track meets. They have recently been moved from only Saturdays, to any day of the week that the weather allowed.

 

Which is why, on Thursday, January 23rd, the day before Dean's birthday and the end of the week before exams, the group was at the Winchester household celebrating yet another win for Cas.

 

The day started off like any other day. The teens went to school and Bobby spent the morning with John at the garage. Because of the upcoming track meet later that day, Ellen closed the Roadhouse. She spent the whole morning making party food, which she then transported to the Winchester house and stored in the fridge until after the meet.

 

With Dean's birthday party being held at the Roadhouse after Cas' practice the next day, the group decided this celebration should be more private. It would have taken place at Ellen's, just like any other get together they had, but Ellen and Jo refused to let Dean anywhere near the house. Dean had a tendency to guess presents without seeing them and thus couldn't be trusted in the house.

 

With Bobby taking any chance he could to get out of his house, the celebration couldn't be held there. This was partly due to Bobby wanting to get away, and partly with the fact that the house was just big enough for the man in question to live comfortably with his various books and tools.

 

With no where else the get together could take place, Sam and Dean offered the Winchester house for the day. They hadn't seen nor heard from their father for days. The only way they knew he was alive was because Bobby has him on morning shift while Dean is in school. They figured John was passed out drunk on the couch at the Milligans house.

 

After school, the group, minus Dean, went to the indoor track field to watch the meet. This was the first meet that Dean would miss since that last football game. Luckily, though, pt only lasts an hour and by the time Dean made it back to the school, Cas' segment was just about to start.

 

Dean found Sam and the rest of the group and sat on the bleachers just before the runners started. Alfie and Cas' names could be heard loud above the cheers in the huge gym like building. Dean watched, eyes glued to the black wings that were only partially covered by the wife beater type top the track team had to wear.

 

Cas crossed the finish line first, Alfie right behind him, and the group stood in their spots. Loud cheers echoed around the room.

 

A half hour later, the meet finished, the group hopped in their appropriate vehicles, and they made their way to the Winchester house. Once there, Ellen and Jo headed straight for the kitchen, pulling out the food prepared earlier in the day. Thirty minutes later, meatballs, chips and dip, and just about any party food you could think of, were spread out and displayed on the dining room table. Music played in the background, loud enough to be heard, yet not so loud as to make it hard to hear what the person in front of you said. 

 

After two hours of celebrating, eating, and just enjoying each others presence, the group was winding down. Yawns filled the air every few minutes. Ellen and Jo were cleaning up the kitchen, putting away any left over food and washing the dishes. Bobby and Sam were in the living room, deep in a discussion about Mary Shelley's 'Frankenstein'. At least, that was the book they were talking about when Dean and Cas went upstairs to visit Angel.

 

Dean sat cross legged on his bed, watching. Cas laid on his stomach, face mushed into the pillow, as the white fur ball of Angel attacked his head excitedly. Her claws tangled into the black locks, knotting the strands more and more with every second that passed by. She pulled one paw away, and Dean watched as the short hair wrapped around her wrist. A soft hissing sound came from the pillow. Taking that as his cue, Dean gently untangled the kitten from Cas' head and pulled her close, cradling her against his shoulder as if she was a baby. Tiny purrs vibrated into his chest.

 

When he heard shuffling sheets in front of him, he looked up. Cas mimicked him and sat up across from Dean. He felt a smile lift the corners of his lips. Green eyes stared into gentle blue. It rushed through him how much he loved Cas. From the gentle touches they shared, to the fierce anger the man could let loose then control as if nothing had happened. His body was on fire. Heat overcame him, and on top of the heat, cold. His body shiver uncontrollably. Blue eyes narrowed. Cas leaned towards the end of the bed and grabbed the extra blanket Dean kept folded there.

 

Dean watched as Cas dragged the blanket towards him. He watched as Cas leaned against his pillows and reached his hand out towards him. Dean willingly situated himself next to the blue eyed teen. The blanket was wrapped around them as Cas snuggled into his side, mindful of the kitten sleeping on Dean's shoulder, still purring silently as gentle breathes left her body.

 

Dean looked down, green eyes gazing at the content look on both his angels faces. As sleepiness over took him, he thought about Cas and his birthday tomorrow. And most importantly, he made the decision that tomorrow, he would tell Cas he loved him.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

The click of a camera woke the two teens up from their short nap. Angel laid in the middle of them, mindlessly pawing at their sprawled out fingers. At the foot of the bed, camera still held up to her face, was Jo.

 

“What the hell, Jo?” Dean nearly shouted. Angel hopped over Cas and ran away at the loudness that now filled the room. Next to him, Cas sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

 

“I'm making a photo album!” Jo exclaimed happily, making the camera click once again at their sleepy and grumpy faces.

 

“A photo album of what?” Cas grumbled out, blue eyes set in a tired glare.

 

“It's your senior year! I'm making a memory!”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “What are you even doing in here, Jo?”

 

Jo huffed and finally lowered the camera. She crossed her arms. “Waking you up. Mom and Uncle Bobby are ready to go.” She paused for a moment, a look of unease falling across her face. A moment later she forced the look away.

 

Dean noticed it though. “What is it, Jo?” he asked in a concerned filled voice.

 

“You're dad's downstairs.”

 

**Shit.**

 

Dean turned to Cas, only to see that blue eyes were already looking at him. They didn't need words to know that they were each thinking the same thing. Surely, there was only one reason in John's eyes that would explain why Dean was up here, alone, with another male.

 

Dean heaved a sigh before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As he was about to stand, Angel jumped into his lap, blue eyes looking up at him curiously. He pet her head once before lifting her up and placing her next to him on the comforter. She pawed at his hand as he pulled away from her, before he stood and headed to the door. Cas and Jo followed behind him.

 

Making his way down the stairs, he heard voices coming from the living room. Based on the few words here and there that Dean caught, Bobby, Ellen, and John were talking freely about a customer that visited the garage earlier today.

 

Right before he made it to the bottom step, Sam's voice rang through the air.

 

“Dad. Can I go to Aunt Ellen's tonight? I forgot to wrap Dean's birthday present,” he said.

 

When Dean heard John say yes, his blood ran cold. He knew this act all to well. John knew Dean wasn't allowed at Ellen's right now, Dean knew he knew.

 

Ten minutes later, Dean was saying good bye to everyone. Promising to see Jo and Cas at school tomorrow and giving Sam a hug good night, Dean watched as the five most important people in his life left the house.

 

John was still in the living room, now nursing a beer he grabbed from the fridge a few minutes ago. Dean, in hopes to avoid his father, walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, peeking inside to see what was left food wise.

 

He didn't hear the footsteps behind him or the sound of glass being placed on the table.

 

A hand gripped his shoulder tightly and yanked him backwards. His light grip on the refrigerator door did nothing to prevent him from descending to the ground.

 

He looked up and saw the glare on his fathers' rage contorted face. “I come home to find out you're upstairs alone with the fairy?” John spat. A foot connected with Dean's ribs. A hand twisted in his short blonde hair and tugged, pulling his face towards John's. “You fucking him, boy?” he asked. Dean whimpered. A hand smacked across his face, leaving it red. “You fucking in love with the boy?” John asked, dangerously low. The smell of alcohol on his fathers breath send a wave a nausea through his stomach.

 

“N-n-no,” he gasped out. The hand in his hair tightened.

 

“Don't. Lie. To me. I heard you, boy.” Dean's eyes went wide. He didn't remember saying those words out loud, not even to himself. “At the fucking cemetery.”

 

Then he remembered. The memory, sharp in his minds eye.

 

_“Cas joined the track team,” he said. “His first meet was today.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “He won. I wish I could have seen it. Wish I could have seen him.” He sighed softly this time. Thinking about Cas warmed his chest. His eyes glazed over as an image of a sweaty Cas running ahead of other faceless people formed in his mind. “I've never felt like this before.” He paused. A moment later, “I think I love him, Mom. But I don't know what love feels like. At least not this type.” He stared down at the angel still in his hand. Instead of the pale blue he was expecting, electric blue stared up at him. The light brown hair turned into messy dark brown. The soft closed mouth smile was instead a wide, full mouth and teeth baring grin. Soft crows feet formed around the wide eyes._

 

_Dean didn't realize how hard he was smiling until his face was hurting from it. His body hummed with the warmth thinking of Cas caused. He looked at the gravestone again. Fresh tears slid down his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I love him, Mom.” He placed the statue on the gravestone again. “I promise my next visit will be on time.” He leaned forward and kissed Mary's name before standing up and walking to the exit._

 

A blow to his stomach brought him out of the memory. “You think it's funny? Fucking a boy?” John asked. Dean couldn't talk. Ice cold fear ran down his back. “Answer me!” he yelled.

 

“No, sir.”

 

John released his grip on Dean's head and stood up. “You end this tomorrow. Do you hear me, boy!”

 

Dean nodded, the words stuck in his throat.

 

“You end this, or else.”

 

Rage replaced the fear. “Or else what?” he asked, sounding pitiful even to his own ears.

 

“Or else you're not the only one who will get the sense beat into him. I'm sure lover boy and Sammy would love to receive this message as well,” John sneered.

 

**No. That's why I let him do this, to protect Sammy.**

 

“You end this tomorrow, boy. Understood!”

 

Dean gulped. He forced the words stuck in his throat. “Yes, sir.”

 

With one last kick to the ribs, he stormed out the front door, beer forgotten on the table. Dean curled into the pain. He gave himself a few minutes to try and steady his breathing, before lifting his heavy body off the ground and crawling up the stairs.

 

Angel curled up to him after he plopped on the bed, wincing as another wave of pain coursed through his body. He curled his body around Angels, shielding her from a non-existent enemy. He fell asleep thinking about blue eyes and soft touches, with tears streaming down his face.


End file.
